


This Is The Road To Ruin

by m1ssmissingyou



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alcohol, Asshole Gerard Way, Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 24,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m1ssmissingyou/pseuds/m1ssmissingyou
Summary: Pete Wentz hasn't got much going for him, but he's fine with that. He has all the friends he needs, and he gets along okay. That is, until the too-good-to-be-true Patrick Stump stumbles his way into school, and into Pete's personal life, and Pete isn't quite sure how."What are you looking at?”“You, of course.”*odd numbered chapters - pete's poveven numbered chapters - patrick's pov(p.s. i wrote this in the seventh grade. my writing has significantly improved since then. check out my other fics)
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 6





	1. I Don't Know Where You're Going

**Author's Note:**

> hey, its me trick. welcome to this fic. this is the first one I'm posting on here solely because its the only finished fanfic i have. i would like to preface it by saying that i wrote this when i was 12 years old. its not great. also there are topics that i would handle way better now. so please, before you take this as an indicator of my writing ability, check out my other fics (coming soon lol)!! anyway, i hope you do manage to enjoy this somewhat.

It was a terrible day right from the miserable morning. I got out of bed, almost but not quite tripping over my own feet, and immediately scowled when I looked out my window. I was in a bad mood. So was the world, apparently. I sighed, getting dressed slowly, then saw the clock.

An assortment of certain words rushed through my head as I threw on a jacket and grabbed my bag, going downstairs as quickly yet silently as I could.

By the time I got to school, my black choppy hair was a mess and my face was red. Eyeliner, I realised. I had forgotten to put it on. Oh well. No emo today.

I raced through the halls to my locker, slamming into the one next to it to find a lock on it. That’s strange, I thought, rubbing my shoulder. Nobody had that locker. I came to the conclusion that it must be a new kid and grabbed my books.

On the way to my English class, I was stopped by a certain force. I internally rolled my eyes at the sight of the principal.

“Peter.”

“Pete,” I corrected. I really wasn’t in the mood for another of Mr Gaskarth’s friendship projects. I had friends, Brendon and Ryan. They were all I needed. I hung around with their friends as well, so four friends. That was enough for Mr Gaskarth, surely!

“Peter. I have someone for you to meet,” he said, eyeing me up.

“I need to-“

“No, you’re to come with me. You’ll be showing him around, he’s starting today.”

I huffed and followed him into his office. I’d never had a new kid to show around before. It was always just trying to make me friends with other students who hated me. That never really worked out.

I was greeted with a short boy, looking extremely anxious. His blue eyes flickered up to me when the door closed and he waved a hand.

“Peter, this is Patrick Stump. You’re going to be showing him around.”

No, this kid looked way too innocent and un-emo for me. His blonde - brown hair sat graciously on his head, under a black fedora. His blue eyes shimmered in the light coming from the office window. His cheekbones, I couldn’t help but notice, were something else.

Patrick smiled at me, and I kept my poker face. He’d leave me for the popular kids soon enough, so why should I try to be nice?

When he saw that I wasn’t going to smile back, he hung his head and threw his eyes to the ground. 

Mr Gaskarth cleared his throat. 

“Peter, please show Patrick to his locker. Number 403. Patrick, here is your key.” He handed Patrick a small silver key as it clicked in my head. I was locker 402. 

“C’mon,” I muttered, gesturing Patrick out of the room. Mr Gaskarth smiled at me. I frowned back.

“So Peter-“

“Just Pete,” I said, looking back at the small energetic boy who was trailing along behind me. He nodded.

“Pete, okay, can you show me to my classrooms?”

“That’s kind of my job,” I said, stony faced. I couldn’t give into this kid. He wouldn’t even want to be friends with me. I mean, he wears a fedora for god's sake. A fedora! 

“Oh. Right,” said Patrick, looking slightly deflated.

I said nothing.

We kept walking, Patrick humming to himself occasionally. I began to get lost in my thoughts, thinking of new lyrics and poems and stories until I was interrupted.

“Uh, Pete, we-we’re at 403.”

“Huh?” I said, stopping in my tracks, “oh yeah. Get your stuff.”

He nodded, then smiled at me again before opening the locker, taking some books out then shutting it and locking it. He smiled again. God, would this kid ever stop smiling?

“So you like Green Day?” Patrick asked, motioning to my shirt. I nodded, keeping my lips sealed shut. 

“Same! What’s your favourite song?” Okay, he liked Green Day, and wasn’t judging me for being emo. That was... good. Maybe he was like Brendon and Ryan after all. But Brendon and Ryan (or, as everyone called them, their ship name Ryden) were more popular than I was. They hung out with me because I liked music and similar things in general to them.

“Uh - probably Holiday.” I muttered. I would at least make an attempt, maybe.

“Oh cool! Mine’s When I Come Around. They’re great!”

I nodded again, before turning the corner. 

“I like your hair,” said Patrick, trying to start another conversation after a moment of silence. That kind of shocked me - usually people would insult my choppy fringe.

“Um, thanks?”

“Welcome! What other-“

“We’re here,” I interrupted, “this is the English classroom, which conveniently you’ll be sharing with me.”

I barged in the door.

“Mr Wentz, where-“ I pointed to behind me, where Patrick was standing, terror in his eyes, sweating buckets as the whole class watched his every move. Every twitch was supervised with twenty pairs of beady hawk eyes.

“Ah. This is a new student then?” I nodded.

“Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Patrick timidly nodded. 

“Patrick Stump,” he squeaked out. Gerard and his gang of idiots chuckled in the back of the classroom. Couldn’t they give Patrick a break, at least? I mean, saying stuff to me was okay, but teasing him on his first day when he was clearly nervous? That’s just cruel.

I stopped myself. Why was I thinking like that? I wasn’t supposed to like him. Yeah, he liked Green Day, and he was being nice, but I wasn’t gonna be his friend. No way.

I shuffled to my seat, and to my complete and most definitely real horror the only empty seat resided next to it. I threw my stuff onto the table and Patrick looked at the teacher. She nodded towards me and he came to join me.

“Alright, now that distraction is over. You’ll need your exercise books - yes, Mr Way?”

Gerard smirked from the back of the classroom, turning to look at his best friend Frank before continuing, “Isn’t Patrick meant to be with, ah, the elementary students?”

Most of the class laughed as Patrick went bright red and hung his head in shame. I almost comforted him, but didn’t, because I’m not his friend. Gerard was being extremely rude, however, and Patrick did look a little young and was quite short but that suited him and just made him more cu- I stopped myself, trying to make my inner emo crush this strange fanboy that I was becoming for Patrick.

“Mr Way, that is not appropriate. We will have none of that in my classroom. As I was saying...” My mind began to wander, as it often does. Potential lyrics, stories, and everything in between drifted around my head. I thought of that new band that I should go see, and oh, apparently Mikey Way was dating Ray Toro, and how there was going to be a basement show near me that I could go to on the weekend, and how people were saying that Frank Iero was gay, and how cute Patrick Stump was, and - no, Pete, no, he’s not. I stared out the window, completely zoned out, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see the literal definition of ado - Patrick. I turned around to see Patrick.

“Wanna be partners?”

“Huh?” I asked. Partners?

“Were you paying attention?” I shook my head. 

“We’re doing a project. Choosing a book? A book exhibition? And we need partners,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said, “yeah. Whatever.” 

God, why wasn’t I able to just be emo or whatever? I seemed to melt around him.

I almost didn’t notice as he started talking again. 

“So what book do you wanna do? What - oh! I’ve got one! It’s-“ his eyes lit up with excitement, nearly making me smile out loud. Instead I mentally scorned myself as he talked animatedly.

I nodded in response, not really paying attention

“Sure, whatever.”

He smiled, lighting up the room a little. Just then, the teacher began to speak again. Patrick turned his head to the front and I began to doodle in my book. The bell shocked me out of my mind wanderings and I trudged off to the next class, Patrick in tow.

He kept asking me questions to which I responded with one word answers. Eventually, it was lunchtime. Patrick followed me into the cafeteria, and I began to walk over to Brendon and Ryan. They were already there with Jon and Spencer. I hadn’t talked to them much, but they were cool. 

“Hey Pete! Who’s this?” Brendon asked. I noticed that him and Ryan were holding hands under the table. Not so subtle, Mr Urie.

“Patrick. He’s new,” I responded, sliding into a seat and Patrick awkwardly standing there.

“Do you wanna go and sit with Gerard or something?” 

“Pete, no, don’t say that! Patrick, come on, sit here,” said Brendon, looking kindly to Patrick. He smiled and sat down. 

Brendon started talking to Patrick while Ryan turned to me. Spencer and Jon seemed to be talking about rabbits, or something. Probably rabbits, they were as mad as rabbits.

“So you like Patrick?” Ryan deadpanned.

“Wha-no... no!” I spluttered.

“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third. I know that is a lie. You’ve literally told me that you’re bi, and I see the way you look at him. I’m in your math class, idiot.”

I smiled then quickly frowned to cover it up. “Yeah, but, he, I... have you seen the kid, Ryan? He’s way too innocent and adorable for me.”

Ryan laughed quietly. “Oh really? Adorable. Wow, you’re not doing a great job of lying to yourself.”

I scowled. 

“Where’s your eyeliner?” He asked, changing the subject before I got too sour. 

“Didn’t have time this morning,” I replied.

“Oh. I’ve got some if you really want it, I always keep my makeup bag on me.” 

“Oh, okay, yeah sure. It feels kinda weird without it - even if I’m not seeing myself.”

He grinned and pulled a pencil and tiny mirror out of his pocket.

“You have it all, dude,” I said.

He nodded. “Sometimes Brendon just needs to see his glorious face, hence the mirror.”

I smiled, looking at Brendon, but then my eyes drifted to Patrick, who was giggling at something. Oh my god, giggling, how cute. His eyes were sparkling, his-

“Pete, dude.” Ryan snapped me out of it.

“Yeah... ugh.”

“If you’re gonna be that obvious about it, just put on that damn eyeliner and ask him out, or something.” He grinned again.

I put on the damn eyeliner, but the bell rang before I could ask him out, which I wasn’t gonna do anyway.


	2. Room For One More Troubled Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

I felt the salty waves crash against my skin, chilling me to the bone, but I was numb. The beach was my safe place - where I went to think, to unwind. This beach wasn’t as nice as the one where I used to live, but it was empty, and calm, and soothing.

I began to think over everything that had happened that day. I had met Pete, for a start - and wow, what a start. I could get lost in his hot whiskey eyes, shaded perfectly with eyeliner after lunch, apparently. I also met Brendon, and as he tells me, his boyfriend Ryan, and their friends Spencer and Jon. They were all nice, but I liked Pete the most, despite his obvious attempts to ignore me. He was attractive, and when I saw him talking to Ryan out of the corner of my eye, he was smiling, his eyes all crinkled up, and it was the cutest thing ever.

Of course, I was gay, and at my last school it got out from my old friend telling everyone. People started to tease me to the point where I would refuse to go to school - just because people didn’t like that I was attracted to boys. Your girlfriend is attracted to boys, so if I am too, why is that so bad? I didn’t plan on telling anyone, and I hadn’t told Brendon, of course. He seemed really nice and genuine, but so did my old friend until he ‘exposed’ me. 

I began to notice the clouds darkening from pink to orange, to dark red, and I watched the sun go down before walking back up the beach. Halfway up the sand, I noticed another figure. The figure was train and wearing dark clothes, staring out into the ocean. Perhaps they had been there as long as I had. I began to think about the person when said person turned and started walking towards me, obviously not seeing me in what was now the shadows. 

As they got closer and closer, I recognised them. Choppy hair, tanned skin, a Green Day shirt. It was Pete, but there was something wrong; his cheeks were stained with teas, black streaks from his running eyeliner, and his face was red in places. He twisted his arm, pulling at the skin, still shaking with sobs as he walked up the beach. I began to worry. Why would Pete be upset? I squinted my eyes for a second, thinking of what to do. I thought it was best to just leave him and go home, minding my own business.

Naturally, I didn’t, and instead ran over to him.

“Pete?”

“What the - Patrick - what, no, g-go away.”

“No, you’re crying! Here, I can help-“ 

“Patrick, go away!” He seemed pretty angry at this point, but tears were still streaming down his face.

“No, Pete, come with me.”

“Why should I-“

“Please, I’ll help you,” I said, trying my best to stay calm, “just come. I won’t hurt you.”

At that point, he crumpled to the sand, shaking so violently I thought he was going to cause an earthquake. I crouched down and tried to give him a hug but he shoved me off.

“Go away!”

I didn’t say anything, instead just sat down on the sand, staring at the boy. His hair was all over his face, which was bleeding - bleeding. 

“Pete, what happened to your face?”

He shook his head, continuing to cry loudly. I looked around to make sure that there was nobody else watching. The beach was empty, apart from me, Pete, and the glowing embers of the nearly set sun.

By the time he had calmed down, it was dark, and I could barely see his facial features. No defining lines, just a blob of Pete - which was the best kind of blob, in any other moment.

“Don’t you - don’t you have to go home to your - your parents, or something?” He spat.

“No, it’s okay. Do you want me to walk you back to your house?” I asked.

“But... your parents will be mad?” 

“Only a little, it’s seriously okay. Where’s your house?” At this, he choked up again.

“I... I don’t.. I don’t.. I can’t, um -“

“Do you want to stay at my place for the night?” In the dusky moonlight, I saw him breathe a visible sigh of relief before going tense again.

“Surely you hate me by now?” He asked, and I immediately felt bad for him. Why would I hate him? I mean, sure, he hadn’t been the nicest to me, but maybe it was just a bad day, considering what had just happened.

“No, why would I hate you?”

“Because I’m a dick to you?” He pointed his head to the ground.

“Yeah, but it’s okay. If you need somewhere to stay for the night, you can stay at mine. And we’re friends.” 

“E-even though I’m like this?” 

“Yeah, and see, you’re being nicer now,” I said, trying to cheer him up.

“I-okay. Thank you, Patrick,” he replied slightly sheepishly. I took his hand, and he flinched at first, but then allowed me to lead him to my house.

“Patrick, why are you - who’s this?” My mom asked when I walked through the kitchen door. Perhaps I should have texted them before walking in with a distraught boy who was going to stay the night.

“Mom, uh, this is Pete, I was out so late because I was helping him, and he’s, um, gonna stay the night.”

She eyed him up, Pete shrinking into himself slightly. He bit his lip, eyes shining, and we both awaited her response.

“Okay. Next time, though, I’d like you to tell me at least a little bit beforehand.”

I nodded, smiled, and led Pete upstairs to my bedroom. I sat in the chair and motioned for him to sit on the bed, which he did, his leg bouncing.

“Sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“For having to be here. You should be having a nice night, without me.”

I frowned. “But I like you.” His eyes flickered up to mine and then back down to the floor. He was now picking his lips as well. 

“Oh,” he said lamely, “please don’t tell Brendon or Ryan or anyone.”

“I won’t, I promise. It’s all okay, Pete.”

He nodded, tears running down his face again.

“Here, you can sleep on the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor,” I said, changing the subject. He immediately looked horrified.

“Oh, no, no, no, it’s fine, I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t wanna take your bed.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No, you’re gonna sleep in a comfortable bed, given what just happened.”

“No, I don’t want to take your things. I’m not w-“

“Seriously. Sleep, Petey.”

He slid off the bed and onto the floor. I sighed and got into bed.

Silence floated through the air like a thick carpet.

“Pete,” I said.

“Yeah?” His voice cracked. Had he started crying again?

“Come sleep in the bed with me. It’s warm.”

I heard a shuffling noise and he nervously got up from the floor, slowly climbing into my bed. I pressed my back to the wall, making space for him. Pete shivered, making me want to hug him, but I didn’t. 

Instead, I made sure that he was asleep before drifting off myself.


	3. I Don’t Think I’m Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

A strange blanket was draped over me, and there was a light snoring sound coming from over my shoulder. I was in a strangers bed. 

Did I have a one night stand? I thought to myself, then I realised that I was an unpopular emo virgin. So, no.

I opened my eyes wider to see cream walls with posters, a David Bowie one and a Green Day one. There was a guitar - two, in fact, leaned up against the wall. A small keyboard sat in the corner.

I turned around in the bed to face none other than Patrick Stump. It took a lot to not fall out of the bed, until I remembered the previous night’s events. I was crying on the beach, then he found me and I broke down, then had to be taken back to his house. 

Oh god, I thought, why was I such a baby? Why couldn’t I have just sucked it up and gone back home?

As I lay there brooding, Patrick began to stir. He did look quite angelic, actually, light brown hair messy and hat-less. 

“What are you - oh, yeah, sorry. Are you okay?”

No, I wanted to respond, no I’m not, because I slept in your bed and we’re not even meant to be friends, and now I’m gonna be in even more trouble when I get back home. 

“Yeah,” was my response.

“Okay, so - wait, no, your eye!” His face morphed from tired and groggy to concerned. I gingerly reached a hand up to my face and patted my eye; yeah, after yesterday, it was probably bruised.

“It’s fine.”

“Okay... we, uh, have school today, so we kind of need to, like, go?” He sounded nervous. Good. I nodded and crawled out of the bed. I awkwardly stared at him, ruffled and almost crumpled up like a piece of paper. 

Patrick was like a piece of paper, in a way, he was pale and had blank skin, but other than that, he had nice textured skin. I remembered that from when he touched me last night. I didn’t like anyone touching me, and Patrick wasn’t an exception, but his skin was nice. The feel of it on mine. The contrast of my tanned arms and his pale ones.

I was snapped out of my train of thought by Patrick clearing his throat. I replaced what I took to be a dreamy look on my face with a slight scowl.

“I’m... gonna get dressed, uh...” 

I turned to the wall, even if I didn’t completely want to. 

A minute of me staring into printed Billie Joe Armstrong’s soul passed and I heard Patrick’s voice again. I liked his voice; it was deep, but sweet.

“Do you wanna borrow a shirt or something?” I shook my head. 

“Okay. Let’s, uh, get breakfast?” Everything was a question with him.

I nodded and followed him downstairs to the kitchen where his mother, a 13ish year old girl and a man who I assumed was his father were sitting.

“Hey Patrick, did you guys sleep together?” His sister asked, smirking. I felt my face heating up and suddenly all eyes were on me. I wished to be invisible, but unfortunately, my wish was not granted.

“Shut up, Molly.”

“Who are you then?” She smirked.

I choked on air, but luckily Patrick was there to save the day.

“Dad, and Molly, this is Pete, he needed a place for the night.” Molly continued to stare at me as if I was some exotic zoo animal - though if I had a sibling who came downstairs with a random person, I would probably be staring too. His dad nodded, and I bit my lip, nervously waiting for the attention to be off me. 

“So, Pete-“ I felt my heart rate quicken. My lip was surely bleeding as I tried not to look his dad in the eye.

“Dad, not right now, please.”

I flinched slightly, but instead of what I was expecting, his dad nodded understandingly and went back to his breakfast. I breathed a sigh of relief as Patrick crosses the room to put toast in the toaster.

“I ship it,” said Molly as I walked past her. I felt my face flush with colour again.

We walked out the door some thirty minutes later, Patrick buzzing with excitement and me moping along. 

“Sorry,” I said. 

“Don’t be, it’s okay. Do we need to stop by your house to get your bag and stuff?”

I realised that I had to get my stuff for school. I nodded stiffly and we turned a corner on my lead.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you at the beach?”

“I was sad,” I said lamely. To be fair, I was, but that wasn’t the only reason. 

“That’s the only reason?” I shook my head without saying anything.

“Is it something at home?” Yes, Patrick, I wanted to say, it’s the only thing at home. I nodded my head, watching my feet hit the ground with every step. 

“Is... did one of your parents die?” I shook my head, even though that technically was the truth, but it wasn’t the problem.

“Okay. Did, um, wait... oh,” he said, examining my face.

“Who did that to you?” He asked. I simply shook my head again. 

“Pete, please,” he begged. It was starting to remind me of the previous night, and I didn’t like it.

“You don’t even care,” I said, eyes brimming with tears.

I suddenly felt myself being enveloped in long, pale arms. I squirmed, trying desperately to push Patrick off; it was making me think of things that I didn’t want to think of.

“Patrick, get off.”

“Oh! Sorry,” he mumbled, sucking his hands back to his sides. I nodded again.

“I don’t want to be touched.”

“Is it because-“

“It’s because with you I should have a choice, or maybe you’re just like... maybe... you, you... stop,” I finished weakly, tears now running down my face yet again.

Crybaby, I thought bitterly to myself. He’s just gonna keep walking, I’m too embarrassing to be around.

Patrick, however, did not keep walking, instead he stood next to me as I leaned against the wall, my vision going blurry from tears. He began to sing.

“Honey is for bees silly bear,” he began, and oh my god it was amazing. I wiped my eyes and looked up at him. He stopped.

“Keep singing,” I whispered. He did.

Eventually, I was stable enough to get up and without a word, I continued walking to school. Patrick scrambled along beside me, reminding me of the day before. It’s amazing how much can happen in 24 hours.

School was a blur, and with every minute I regretted taking Patrick’s offer even more. At lunch, before we could get to the table, I pulled him over.

“Don’t tell anyone what happened,” I said, trying to be hostile but failing, though he got the message and looked slightly hurt.

“O-okay...”

I sat and listened to Brendon, who was going on about how Ryan is so great because of reasons I wasn’t paying attention to. They did have a really cute relationship, but I wasn’t really in the mood for one of his ‘Ryan rants’.

Gerard said nothing to me all day, which was a relief in the least. He was shooting me glares whenever he could, but that didn’t bother me as much. He barely spoke in class, as well. No sarcastic comments to the teacher or other students; in fact, he only seemed to be talking to Frank and occasionally Ray.

At the end of the day, I walked out the gates alone. I walked home alone. I stepped up to the doorstep alone. I shoved my key in the lock and stepped in, alone and was immediately shot into my nightmare.


	4. I'll Check In Tomorrow If I Don't Wake Up Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

Pete didn’t come home with me. As I walked, alone, I began to think of an explanation as to why he’d been distant. I would have thought that after taking him home and protecting him from whatever he was afraid of, he would at least try to be my friend. Instead, he almost ignored me, then gets mad at me at lunchtime - even though I wasn’t even going to tell the others what had happened.

I entered my thankfully empty house and went straight up to my room. I sat in my bed, gazing at my shoes blankly. I sat there for a good half hour before I heard the front door opening and Molly yelling my name.

“Yeah?” I yelled, going down the stairs.

“Patrick, I think I saw Pete,” she panted, face red. Had she ran home? It was very unlike Molly to voluntarily do exercise.

“Yeah, okay, so?” 

“No, like... he was just... he was lying out the front of a house, and he was crying, and looked like he was bleeding or something,” she said, a sense of urgency in her voice.

“Where?” I asked, already walking to the door.

“I don’t know... I think Manic Street.”

I nodded and ran out the door, taking a left turn towards Manic Street.

I jogged along the street, looking at all the houses until I saw something that nearly made me throw up; Pete, crumpled up on a doorstep, his body shaking with sobs and blood pouring out of an open wound in his arm.

“Pete!” I screamed. He slowly turned his head, which didn’t look great, and when he saw me began to cry harder. I ran over to him and quickly scooped him up. His legs seemed to be fine, but he was shaking so much that he couldn’t stand properly, so I held him up. 

“What happened?”

He shook his head, collapsing into me. 

“Do you need to stay at my place again?” I asked, panic seeping through my nerves and voice alike. He shook his head again.

“Come on. You don’t have to stay the night, just come and I’ll get you cleaned up a bit, okay?”

He nodded weakly, and I helped him walk back to mine.

We burst through the door to see Molly sitting at the kitchen table, apparently waiting for us.

“Patrick, how... oh! What happened?”

“Molly, get me the first aid kit please,” I said, sitting Pete down on a chair and looking at his arm closer. Shards of glass pierced his caramel skin that was now stained with red. His black eye was more prominent and there seemed to be another new bruise on his cheek.

Molly returned with the kit and I set to removing the glass with tweezers, Pete wincing at every piece I pulled out.

“Pete, can you tell me what happened?”

“I... got... um, jumped?” It was shaky, but it was also a question, and very obviously a lie.

“Did you really?”

He broke down again and shook his head.

“Pete, was it your parents?” Molly asked. Pete hesitated for what seemed an eternity as I looked up to him.

“M-my dad,” he breathed out, then started crying more heavily. I bit my lip.

“We should call CPS,” said Molly, taking it a lot better than I was. Pete jerked violently at this statement, making the wet cloth I was now using on his arm make his shirt wet.

“No, please, no,” he said, “I got - got in trouble for staying here last night, if you, you call them, I’ll... I’ll be in more... don’t.”

“Pete, we have to call them,” Molly repeated, “if you’re getting hurt like that, you’re not safe.”

“I’m not safe here! I need to go back before I’m in more trouble! He... he calls me gay all the time and if he finds out that I am and I’m at a boy’s house, I’ll die! Let me go!” Pete exploded like a bomb. I was stunned from the impact. Pete was gay? 

“Pete, it doesn’t matter, just-“ Molly tried to reason with him, but he struggled out of my grip and ran out the front door, sprinting back to his house.

Molly and I looked at each other.

“Go after him, idiot,” she said. For once in my life, I listened to my sister. I ran back to Pete’s house, stopping at the front door when I could hear yelling, then Pete yelling back, then more yelling, then glass breaking, a scream, and finally, silence. My breath was caught in my throat, but being reckless and possibly slightly in love, I pushed the door open and was immediately repulsed. There were smashed bottles everywhere, blood in a few spots, and at the end of the dingy hallway I could see Pete lying on the ground.

I tried my best to be quiet as I ran over to him. Pulling him up without a word, I looked over to the couch where presumably his father was passed out, snoring unattractively.

I dragged Pete out of the hellhole, and did my best to lift him onto my back. He was conscious, I knew, but clearly was in no state to walk. I entered my house for the third time in twenty minutes to Molly biting her nails in apprehension. She helped me get Pete into the chair and clean up his wounds.

“I’m calling CPS now,” she said.

“No...” muttered Pete, shaking his head, “he’ll hurt you guys as well.”

Molly sighed and looked at me. I just stared at her hopelessly, while dabbing at his wounds; she was being way more mature than I was, even if she was two years younger than me.

“Do you want to wait until our parents get home? They will protect you if your dad comes,” she said. Pete sighed, then hesitated before nodding. I gave him a small smile before a blanket of silence was thrown upon us.

“Patrick?” Pete choked out.

“Yeah?”

“Can you sing me something?”

I looked at Molly hesitantly, who raised her eyebrows. Clearing my throat slightly, I began.

“Don’t panic, no not yet,” I sang a song that I had built up in my head over time. I even had the guitar written for it.

I finished my lame little song and Molly looked pleasantly surprised. I had never sung around her. Pete was smiling a little bit which made my heart soar. 

At that moment, my dad came through the door, and Pete immediately tensed up, biting his lip and looking towards me. I grabbed his hand as a sign of reassurance. 

My dad did a double take, as it would probably be slightly shocking to see your teenage son and daughter helping out your son's friend who has a mysterious problem and is currently slightly covered in blood.

“Patrick, what’s going on?” My dad was calm, but Pete whimpered slightly, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“Dad. Patrick’s - Pete, uh, his dad is, like, abusing him, we need to call CPS, but he was scared so we wanted to wait until you and Mom got home,” said Molly. He nodded, looking towards Pete.

“You can stay here as long as you need. I trust that Patrick’s taking care of you?” Pete nodded slightly, clearly overcome with fear. 

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” he continued, seeing Pete’s distress.

“T-that’s what... what he s-said.”

I looked at the ground for a moment, then back to my dad who looked very guilty.

“Let’s go up to my room, okay?” I said, and he nodded, standing on shaky legs like a new foal. I felt my dad's eyes on us. Molly stood and followed us up, but at the top of the stairs, before she could turn to go into her bedroom, Pete took her arm.

“Thank you,” he said.

“It’s okay. I presume you and Patrick are gonna sleep together again?”

I rolled my eyes and Pete’s face went a light shade of pink. She laughed, apologised, hugged him lightly, then went into her room and played some new pop song.

“Let’s go drown that out with Green Day, hm?”

A smile ghosted across his face as we walked into my room and I pointed to my CD collection. He carefully picked out a Metallica record and put it in my CD player. 

“Good choice,” I grinned.

“Good choices to pick from,” he replied.

He sat down on the bed next to me.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously, you don’t have to be,” I said, frowning. 

“But I do, because I was so rude to you when you were trying to help.”

“No, it’s okay, now I understand your situation, it’s all fine.”

He started crying again.

“B-but you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t be, because I-I’m - it’s all m-my fault and I’m the mistake a-and you, you didn’t, you didn’t, I-“

“Ssh, it’s okay. None of this is your fault. It’s your dad’s fault, and you’re not a mistake. I was the one doing wrong because I let you go back there, and I didn’t realise sooner. Hell, it was my sister who had the brains to figure it out.”

He said nothing, and simply pulled his legs up to his chest and fell back on my bed, crying.

“A-and I s-shouldn’t be - I’m s-so weak for crying a-and ruining your day and it’s o-only your first week here and you’ve a-already met me and-“

“Meeting you was the best thing that could have happened to me. I mean it.”

“Are you really sure?” He looked up at me with wide, puffy eyes.

“Yes.”

He calmed down slightly at that, and I pulled him into myself, where he snuggled against my chest. Over all the music, I heard my mom come in through the door. I could hear her muffled talk with my dad before her footsteps sounded up the stairs. The door of my bedroom swung open.

“Pete, sweetheart, are you alright?”

He nodded.

“Patrick’s dad told me what happened. Do you want me to call CPS now?”

He shook his head. My mom nodded understandingly.

“Alright, but we will need to do so sometime soon, it’s for your own safety.”

He nodded and buried himself deeper into my shirt. I grimaced at my mom and she smiled weakly before exiting the room and for once closing the goddamn door. 

Ten or so minutes passed by, until Pete jolted up and sprinted to my window, immediately breaking down when he saw what was outside. I followed quickly and my stomach plummeted when I saw, in the flesh, a very familiar drunk man screaming for his son.


	5. This Is The Road To Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

The kitchen was brighter than before. Two police officers were sitting across from me, and Patrick beside me, holding my hand.

“Thank you, Peter. We will review this case and most likely, your father will be sent to prison for abuse and neglect.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat that had been there since four hours ago when Patrick’s parents called the police on my father, who had turned up at their door asking for me. Everything was a blur except for Patrick, who stood by me the entire time, holding my hand and reassuring me that it was going to be okay.

I had stared blankly at my father being hauled into the police car, while Patrick had been there by my side, holding my hand. He was still holding my hand when they asked me what he had done to me, and when I had started crying, he had reassured me that everything would be alright.

“Would you like to collect your clothes and stuff from your house?”

I nodded at the officer, and she curtly nodded back, before taking Patrick and I in the car. It was a fairly short walk, but everything had to be official.

We entered the house and I led Patrick up to my room. It was the only place in the house that didn’t reek of alcohol, which he seemed pretty thankful for. I grabbed a bag out of the closet and began to shove clothes into it. I moved onto CDs, then my eyeliner and hair straightener, then everything else. 

Patrick had picked up the black bass in the corner of my room. That bass was how I’d spent most of my time in the house; whenever the house was silent, I would fill it with my music. I had thousands of notebooks worth of lyrics, as well, and I grabbed my box of them along with napkins and loose sheets of paper.

Without exchanging a single word, Patrick and I brought down all the stuff that I figured was worth keeping. 

It was back at Patrick’s house when everything hit me like a commercial jet, bowling me over on the runway. We were up in his room, listening to Radiohead in silence, and everything just crashed like a wave - a wave of everything that I had been suppressing and blanking through.

This time, I didn’t cry. I cried when the small waves had hit. The shallow foot numbing streamlines. But this, the tidal wave, the tsunami, was too powerful to even make me cry. 

So I fainted.

I woke up later with Patrick hovering over me, and my mind had a flash of ‘lean up and kiss him’ before mentally scolding myself with ‘no, he’s straight and wouldn’t even like you, idiot’ before a sudden realisation of ‘wait what’s going on’. My brain works in mysterious ways.

“You, uh, fainted,” said Patrick as I shot up. I was still on his bed, the sun had gone down slightly, and Patrick looked worried. “Why?” 

“Don’t know,” I replied, my voice strained and cracked from the slight lack of use and water, “is there anything to drink?” 

“Oh!” He said before running out of the room. I looked around more, noticing every small detail. The way that the desk legs sunk into the carpeted floor. The way that the light from the bulb overhead hit every wall and crevice. The way that Patrick walked through the door with two glasses of water.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“It’s okay,” he replied.

I gratefully sipped my water, trying to organise my head (which to be honest was pretty impossible).

“Hey, uh, you don’t have to go to school tomorrow if you don’t want. And you can stay here tonight. And-“

“I forgot about school.”

“Yeah... it’s only Tuesday so, there’s that, but do you want to stay home?”

“No,” I said, setting the empty glass down, “I wanna see the others.”

Patrick nodded and licked his lips. My mind wandered back to the Patrick Attraction; at that point I had given up on trying to deny my little crush. However, I wasn’t going to ask him out, because first of all, he was straight, and second of all, he wouldn’t even like me.

“Pete?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know why your... never mind, sorry.”

“Why my what? Say, I won’t be offended,” I said.

“Why... why your dad... yeah.”

I bit my lip. I wanted to tell him, I really did, but he’d hate me.

“I, um, don’t really wanna... talk about it, like, yet... sorry.”

He immediately looked super guilty and started apologising. 

“Sorry, I’m so... that was stupid of me to ask. Sorry, I shouldn’t have...”

“It’s okay,” I replied, even though it wasn’t. It was Patrick, and with him everything seemed to be okay.

“No, it’s not, I’m an idiot-“

“Patrick, shut up-“

“A mistake-“

Mistake. That stung deeper than any of his other words, slicing my thick skin like a rusty knife. I couldn’t control myself and I slapped him across the face before becoming horrified and bursting into tears - again. Oh god, I’m such a crybaby. I’m not even a crybaby; I’m the crybaby. I’m the idiot. The mistake.

“Pete, what the-“

“You’re just like him,” I said, trembling with fear or sadness or rage, or all three because I couldn’t tell the difference, “you’re just like him!”

I was standing somehow, my legs and body taking over my mind which was begging for a rational end to it all.

“No, Pete, I’m not! You are, you just hit me!” He stood up and stepped towards me. My vision was going dark and fuzzy as I backed into the corner of his room and sank down to the floor. I heard Patrick swearing, but it seemed otherworldly and distant. I passed out, for the second time in twenty minutes.

I woke up yet again on Patrick’s bed, but this time his parents were there, looking concerned. I scampered backwards as soon as I woke up properly, my back pressing into the headboard.

“Pete, I’m so sorry,” Patrick said, tears running down his face. He still looked good, even with - no, he didn’t look good.

“Don’t say that again,” I mumbled.

He bit his lip and nodded, eyes overflowing again. My knees were pressed into my chest, my senses flooding back into my body which I had control over again.

“Pete, sweetie, is there anything we can do?” His mother interjected.

“Where am I gonna live?” I asked quietly.

“Uh, we haven’t figured that out yet,” she said. I nodded.

“But for now, you can unpack in here,” his dad said. I flinched slightly, because I knew that he was harmless, but my brain hadn’t adjusted to it yet. Patrick noticed and frowned in concern before nodding. 

“Yeah...”

“Okay. We’ll leave you to it, then.”

His parents left the room, leaving me to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Do you wanna have a shower or anything?”

I nodded, weaving a hand through my hair which was greasy and sticky in spots from the blood. Patrick smiled a fake smile, then walked out to get me a towel.

“Here. First door on the left,” he said, returning with a white fluffy towel, “and listen, I’m so sorry for saying that stuff. I was angry at myself for making you... go through it. Thank you for saying that you didn’t want to talk about it, by the way, it means that you trust me.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, “it’s okay. Thank you, and I’m sorry for getting mad and hitting you. I don’t want to be...”

“It’s okay. Don’t say it. Just go take a shower,” he said. I walked out of his bedroom and went in the first door on the right, before figuring out the knobs and drowning my thoughts with the hot water.


	6. We’re Starting At The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

School was pretty hectic. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, overcome with my worry for Pete who had insisted on coming. He was more distant than usual in lessons, barely talking to me and when he did, it was quiet and cutoff.

Ryan tried his best to cheer him up, but even that didn’t work. 

“Come on buddy,” said Brendon as we ate, “you don’t have to talk, just at least eat something... please?”

“Not hungry,” Pete mumbled.

“Do it for the forehead?” 

Pete shook his head.

“Please dude?” Spencer asked, weighing in on the conversation. Jon seemed more attentive as well.

“I...”

“It’s okay guys,” I said, saving Pete, “he just doesn’t want to talk. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, but why?” Ryan asked stupidly. Pete stood up, then quickly ran out of the cafeteria.

“I’m gonna go after him,” I said quietly after a few seconds of silence, “and it’s okay if he doesn’t wanna talk, please.”

I ran into the hallway, with no sign of Pete until I heard voices from around the corner.

“Hey dude, what’s wrong?” It was two guys, I saw as I walked silently towards them; one with short ginger hair and big muscles and one with a voluminous afro. 

“I don’t wanna talk,” I heard Pete say. Stealing a glance at his face, I saw that it was tear stained.

“That’s okay,” said Hair Guy.

Muscle Guy sat down next to Pete and then noticed me looking at the three of them from across the hall. Exposed.

“Hey, do you know that kid?” Muscle Guy asked Pete. Hair Guy turned to face me as my face burned, my legs carrying me over to them.

“Patrick,” Pete half whispered.

“Your friend?” Hair Guy asked. Pete nodded.

“Pete, are you okay?” I asked. He shook his head, turning to face me as I sat down on the side of him that Muscle Guy wasn’t occupying.

“Too many questions... I don’t wanna talk but I don’t wanna make the other guys upset at me.”

“They wouldn’t be upset, Pete,” I said, “and they don’t have to know why.” I desperately wanted to hug him, but I respected his boundaries. Hair Guy coughed and I looked up at him.

“Sorry - my name’s Joe, by the way, and that’s Andy.”

I smiled half heartedly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Patrick.”

“Yeah, I think I know you... Mrs Will is your music teacher, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Sorry,” said Pete from beside me, wiping his eyes, “I’m such a baby and you don’t deserve any of it.”

I shook my head slowly, “No. It’s okay to have emotions.”

After a while, we went back into the cafeteria, where I invited Joe and Andy to sit with us as a thank you.

“Guys, this is Andy and this is... Joe? Yeah. They’re sitting with us.”

“Oh cool,” said Brendon, “and Pete, why did you-“

“Bren, don’t,” muttered Ryan, noticing Pete’s tear stained face. I mentally thanked him.

Pete was silent for the rest of the day. When we arrived home, we left to my room and he simply sat on the bed, vacantly staring at the floor.

“Do you wanna do something?” I asked nervously. He shook his head, glancing up to meet my eyes before looking at the clearly extremely interesting carpet.

“I’m sorry about what I said yesterday,” I tried again.

“It’s okay.”

“Here, choose some music or something,” I said, gesturing wildly to the CDs. He tentatively stood up and put in the album Wish by The Cure.

Ironic, I thought as Friday I’m In Love Played, because it was only Wednesday yet I was mildly falling for Pete.

“Can I come in?” A voice from outside the door rang in after a few songs.

“Whatever,” I said, and Molly walked into the room.

“How are you doing, Pete?” She asked. God bless my stupid idiot little sister.

“Eh,” said Pete. At least he didn’t lie and say he was fine.

“Do you guys wanna watch a movie?”

I looked at Pete hopefully. He simply shrugged, but that was all the answer that I needed.

“Great!” Molly said, walking out of the room, “I hope you like Shrek!”

Pete laughed weakly at that, and a smile creeped across my face at the sound. I giggled before I could stop myself.

“That’s adorable,” said Pete.

Oh my god, he called me adorable.

“Thanks,” I said, “but you’re more adorable.”

Eventually, we went into Molly’s room, and spent the rest of the night watching Shrek - though most of the time I was watching Pete.

“So... sleeping.”

“Oh yeah,” I said, back in my room, “uh, you can just sleep in my bed again I guess, though we’ll get you a proper mattress for tomorrow.”

Pete nodded and climbed into bed after me, pushing himself to the edge. I pressed my back against the wall again. There was considerable space between us, that I didn’t necessarily enjoy.

As I was drifting off, I felt an arm wrap around me. I opened my heavy, sleepy eyes to see Pete, fast asleep, trying to pull me towards him. Cute.

I relaxed and sunk into his hold, falling asleep like a feather falling to the ground.


	7. Let’s Be Alone Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

I had decided that I liked Patrick’s house. It was always warm and friendly, his family got along well and they treated me like I was their son. I lived for all the affection - but it was still strange, because I hadn’t felt it in a long time.

“Pete? You okay?” Patrick asked as we walked to school, my feet carrying me without my mind focusing on them.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Alright. We’re gonna get you a proper bed for tonight, okay?”

“I like... okay.”

“You like what?”

“Uh...” my face felt very warm. 

“You like sharing with me? Oh wow Pete, I’m honoured,” said Patrick, laughing slightly. I nodded bashfully and his smile simply grew.

“That’s okay... I just thought that you didn’t like touching.”

“I don’t,” I said, “but you’re... I don’t know. I trust you, even though I don’t.”

Patrick nodded, a confused look planted on his face.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay... I kinda get what you mean? Maybe,” he replied. I grimaced.

“Left,” I said to break the silence. We turned left and he still didn’t say anything.

“You can share with me again if you really want,” said Patrick finally.

“Are you sure? I, uh, it’s fine, I’ll sleep on the mattress if you don’t want me to sleep with you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he replied, “I actually quite like it too.”

This made me smile internally and slightly externally, so I swept my bangs across my face again. I continued to watch Patrick walk. I admired every step - slightly creepy, but Patrick was... Patrick. He was adorable. After a while of small chips of conversation, we arrived at school. It was at the lockers that Gerard found me.

“Wentz.”

“Way - the uglier one,” I replied. It was true, and I could say that firsthand because I had had a crush on Mikey Way for a little while. But Patrick was better. Mikey was kind of annoying anyway.

“Psh. Anyway, listen. I know about you and the Stump kid. You better see me in classroom 292 at lunchtime, okay?” Gerard spat aggressively, jabbing a finger into my chest. I wriggled slightly; yes, Gerard was kind of a dick but he had never physically bullied me, or touched me.

At that moment, Patrick noticed Gerard standing there.

“Hey Gerard, what do you want?”

“Piss off, elementary,” said Gerard. What a lame insult - though Patrick didn’t think so and went bright red, turning back to his locker as Gerard walked off.

“What was that about?” He asked as we walked to Math.

“Eh, just... um, oh, we’re here,” I said, diverting the attention.

Patrick looked at me strangely, but didn’t pry further. The day dragged on, and four periods later, it was lunch, but instead of going to the cafeteria I went to classroom 292.

“What is it, Gerard?” I asked wearily.

“Well, Wentz, you see, I know about your little thing with that stupid Stump kid. Everybody knows at this point that you slept with him, and-“

“No, I didn’t,” I said, getting irritated.

“Liar. Anyways, what I know that nobody else does, is that my little brother Mikey is getting a little jealous of Patrick. So, unless you wanna be taught a serious lesson, I recommend you break off your happy go lucky little fling with that kid who’s far too good for you, and instead date my brother who is way more into you.”

I was dumbfounded. “You want me to date Mikey Way. Your brother. And also, he’s gay according to you - I’m not,” I said, only half lying.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s it about Stump?” He asked, venom piercing every word. He was really salty about this, I thought to myself.

“We’re friends, Gerard. Like you and Frank,” I said tiredly, turning towards the door and beginning to leave before feeling a hand hit my back.

“Gerard stop,” I said, panicking. I didn’t wanna have an attack in front of him. He didn’t say anything, just pulled me around to face him before shoving me over. My vision became cloudy and dark as I scrambled backwards, hitting a table.

“Stop!” I yelled, but he just kept walking towards me. After he kicked me, I lost it. I was yelling and crying, trying to hit Gerard back.

“Weirdo,” he muttered before I heard a door slam.

I sat on the floor, weak and shaky, catching my breath. Outside the classroom, I could hear footsteps, then the opening of a door.

“Where could - oh!” Feet rushed over to me, underneath legs, underneath a person - Patrick. Followed by Ryan.

“Pete, what happened?”

“Gerard,” I mumbled, looking at the ground ashamedly. I was so weak and idiotic to listen to Gerard, Patrick was gonna hate me.

“What did he do?”

I shook my head.

“Pete, please,” said Patrick, worry lacing his pretty eyes.

“He... he pushed me over, and, and then he kicked me, and I was... I don’t know, I was going crazy, and then he left. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Patrick, as Ryan watched nervously, “maybe we can go home.”

“No,” I replied, getting to my feet semi confidently and looking at Ryan.

Patrick bit his lip and nodded, before leading me out of the classroom and back to the cafeteria.

“Hey guys, hey Pete.”

“Hi Brendon... oh, Joe and Andy, you guys are sitting here again?”

“Yeah! You guys are cool,” said Joe. I smiled half heartedly.

I sat down at the table, and talked to Andy for a bit. He was vegan and played drums, and seemed pretty cool. I was still getting over his voice; a guy with big muscles and lots of tattoos would be the last person you’d expect to have a little butterfly voice. But it was cool.

The day passed surprisingly fast, and I walked home with Patrick in high spirits. 

“You’re smiling!” He said.

“Hm? Oh... yeah, I guess... I don’t know. I’m happy to be going home with you I guess.”

He giggled, then grabbed my hand which shocked me and began to run. We ran together before he suddenly stopped, wheezing.

“Asthma... wow that... was stupid,” he breathed, adjusting his bag. I laughed, my back pain catching up to me as a result of my heavy schoolbag.

“Hello, I got off work early,” his mother said as we walked into the kitchen, greeting us at the door.

“Hi Ms Stump,” I said, trying to make an effort.

“Hi Pete. Patrick, your sister is bringing someone over, I think.” Patrick groaned but nodded.

“Okay.”

We walked upstairs and Patrick dumped his bag on the ground. I followed before sitting on the bed.

“You know, I don’t know why, but I feel good. Even after what happened today, which is weird, but... you know?”

Patrick nodded, then smiled.

“Do you wanna go and eat out or something? Molly’s friends are... uh,” he struggled with trying not to say anything mean.

“Incredibly annoying?” I offered.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Yeah, we can go out,” I said.

“Wait - you can play bass right?”

“Uh yeah, kinda,” I said, looking at my bass that was propped against the wall.

“We can play together later! I can play guitar,” exclaimed Patrick excitedly. His fedora bounced as he nodded and he adjusted it slightly.

After a few more moments of instrument talk, we heard voices from downstairs.

“I think that’s our cue to go,” said Patrick, standing and opening the door to see Molly and some other girl coming up the stairs.

“Who’s that?” Her friend asked, staring at me.

“Patrick’s boyfriend,” giggled Molly, making my face flush. 

“No he isn’t... we’re going, bye.”

“Bye Patrick, bye Pete!” Molly yelled, leading her friend into the bedroom.

And with that, we left.


	8. We Could Stay Young Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

“Patrick?”

“Hm?” 

“What... no never mind.”

I turned over in the bed to face Pete who looked wide awake.

“You can say it,” I whispered.

“No, no, it doesn’t matter,” I searched his hot whiskey eyes in the dark for a minute before nodding and closing my own. The sound of his breathing was comforting. I liked it - but I liked everything about Pete, and it made my heart ache to know that he wouldn’t like me back. I over analysed every little move that he made towards me, always trying to find some sort of evidence that he liked me back. But no.

I woke again in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

“Pete,” I whispered into the darkness. After no reply, I got worried and stood up. Looking out into the corridor, I saw nothing but darkness - no bathroom light on, so he wasn’t in there. I carefully walked back into my room and looked out the window where I saw him, sitting out in the yard by himself. I slid open my window.

“Pete,” I half whispered. His face turned up to me, barely distinguishable in the black of the Chicago night.

“What - oh,” he called out softly, standing and running back to the house. My ears pricked as I heard the lightest footsteps come up the stairs, down the hall, then the soft click of my bedroom door opening and closing.

“Sorry,” He whispered, “I just wanted some alone time. It’s, ah, I shouldn’t do it here. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I was just worried,” I said. He suddenly wrapped his arms around me and hugged me, shocking me. However, I pulled him in and hugged him tighter.

“I want my dad,” he said quietly. I pulled away.

“But-“

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered quickly, after realising what he had said.

“Um... okay.”

“Goodnight Patrick,” Pete said, getting under the covers and punching himself to the edge.

“Goodnight Pete,” I replied.

I woke up at a reasonable hour to my arms around the boy in my bed.

“Sorry,” I exclaimed as soon as I properly woke up.

“It’s alright, I didn’t wanna disturb you. You were really peaceful.”

“Alright. We should get ready, then.”

“But it’s Saturday,” Pete said, puzzled.

“Oh... oh yeah.”

We heard screeching from down the hall.

“I guess Molly’s woken up,” I muttered, standing up and picking out some clothes. Pete chuckled and my heart melted even more. I certainly wasn’t any sort of hardcore no emotions guy, but there mere thought of Pete just made me feel a little warmer inside. 

“Could... could we maybe, like, hang out with the others or something?”

“That sounds great,” I said, “do you know where Brendon lives?”

“Um,” Pete replied, getting out of bed and going to his bag in the corner to get clothes, “I have a vague idea - but if we find it, Ryan will probably be there and like, he probably knows where Jon and Spencer live too.”

I nodded and gestures to the pair of black skinny jeans and shirt in my arms. 

“Um, I’ll go into the bathroom so you can get changed in here, I guess.” Pete nodded. 

I returned minutes later and placed my fedora on my head. Pete looked better in fresh clothes. 

“Uh... I think it’s this street. Something like that. Maybe?” Pete said. We turned down the street, rusty signs pointing the way and manicured lawns staring us in the face as we passed the neat neighbourhood. 

“Nineteen... twenty... yeah I think this is it. Twenty one,” muttered Pete, stepping up to the doorstep.

“You knock,” I said.

“No, you,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“B-but I don’t wanna... I get anxious.”

“I do too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Sorry. I’ll do it,” Pete said, but before he could raise his hand the door was flung open by none other than Brendon Urie. 

“Brendon, who- oh, hi guys,” said a voice that I recognised as Ryan’s before he stepped out from behind Brendon. His eyes were half shut and he was mumbling.

“Big night, Ryan?” Pete chuckled. Brendon smiled and Ryan crossed his arms.

“Come in! My parents are on their anniversary trip!”

We stepped in and I admired the house briefly before Brendon grabbed our hands and pulled us up to his room. He had a keyboard in the corner and a guitar resting on the bed. 

“Oh, do you play?” I asked. 

“Yeah, do you play any instruments?”

“Uh,” I said, blushing, “yeah I guess.”

“What ones?” Brendon asked, intrigued. 

“Drums. And guitar, and um.. piano and like bass kinda... eh,” I trailed off. As much as I liked music, I hated to brag and when I told people about how many instruments I played they usually told me to stop being so self absorbed. 

“And one hell of a voice!” Pete exclaimed. “Like seriously wow!” 

I licked my lips and looked to the ground.

“Woah dude, that’s cool! Pete never praises anyone like that.”

“Really?” I said, trying to change the subject. It worked, and we bounced back on topics for a while. 

“Hey so, we were coming here because we wanted to maybe hang out, like all of us - and we thought you’d know where Jon and Spencer live,” I said after remembering what we were there for. 

“Oh yeah! That’s cool. I think there’s like a new movie, something to do with The Beatles-“

“The Beatles?” Ryan chimed in, suddenly interested. “Hell yeah, let’s watch that! I know Jon likes them too.”

Brendon smiled adoringly at his boyfriend. They had such a cute relationship, I loved it - though whenever I saw them together, I wished for it to be me and Pete, for some weird, okay, obvious reason.

“Get dressed then, Ryro,” said Brendon and Ryan left to get clothes on. 

“You guys are like, actually adorable,” I said to Brendon. 

“Oh, I know. It’s all due to me - though it’s slightly Ryan!”

“Calm down there, ego man.”

“I’m the ego man, and he’s the emo man. Which are you, Pete?”

“Oh,” said Pete, “what? We’re not, like, in a relationship, or anything. Um.”

“Emo man it is,” chuckled Brendon as Ryan came back into the room with a Beatles shirt (and pants that were not related to The Beatles). How surprising. 

“We have a fanboy on our hands, then,” I said, and Pete laughed. 

“So Patrick’s the fanboy and Pete’s the emo man!” Brendon exclaimed. I shook my head and adjusted my fedora. 

“Fedora fanboy,” said Ryan, and we left downstairs. 

“More like Chicago fanboy,” I replied as we went out the door and down the street to where Jon apparently lived. 

“Okay Pete, I present to you, your boyfriend the Chicago Fedora Fanboy.”

“Very funny, Ryan. Ha. Ha. Oh my god, just dying over here. Ha,” Pete laughed sarcastically. I laughed too, but secretly I hoped that one day I would be Pete’s Chicago Fedora Fanboy boyfriend. 

“Power couple!” Brendon yelled to the world. 

“Power couple?” a voice said from behind us. 

“Huh? Oh - Joe! Hi! What are you doing?”

“Like, walking.”

“Oh! Of course. Wanna join us at the movies? We’re seeing that new one with The Beatles,” Ryan said, eyes shining, “and if you know where Andy is you can invite him too!”

“Sure. He lives down here, I was actually going to his house. We were just gonna play video games or something, but sure man! But power couple?”

“Pete and Patrick,” explained Brendon.

“Hmm... Peterick!” Ryan said. Pete was incredibly red. Huh.

“Dude, he’s into you,” Ryan whispered in my ear, “I just know it. Ask him out or something, he’s too goddamn shy.”

“Maybe later,” I whispered back hurriedly.

“No. Theatre kiss. Go for it.”

“Okay,” I whispered. 

“Patrick, what’s that?” Pete asked. 

“Oh, Ryan was just asking me about... um.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” said Ryan.

“What?”

“Patrick wants to-“

“Hi guys!” Andy said, coming out of his house.


	9. Cut Me Off, I Lost My Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

“Hi Andy!” I said, “we were just coming to your house! Wanna see a movie with us?”

“Sure, I’d love to!”

“Cool,” I replied, “but what Ryan?”

“Patrick wants-“

“That’s Jon’s house there!” Brendon interrupted. He went up to the doorstep. 

“Patrick-“

“Guys, Jon’s coming!” Ryan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend who was bouncing along the path with Jon in his wake. 

“Patrick Stump would like to ask you out, Pete!” My heart stopped along with my legs at those words. 

“Really?” I turned to Patrick. He had gone even paler, but he slowly nodded, making my head spin. 

“Well. Um. Yes. Please.”

“Really?” Patrick asked. 

“Hell yeah,” I whispered. I looked into his eyes, but our moment was interrupted by a squeal from Brendon. 

“Sorry, but I ship!”

“O-okay,” Patrick whispered. My brain was suddenly put into motion and I ran forward on the path and jumped in the air with happiness. 

“Finally!” Ryan exclaimed. I could only grin. Before I could celebrate more, however, there was a smashing of glass from down the street. I almost fell over, frightened. 

“Pete, are you okay?”

“The... no,” I said, freaking out - again. I begged myself to stop with this, it was stupid, I thought to myself nobody else is going to hurt you, calm down. But, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything and everyone was going to hurt me. 

“Here. Sh. Are you okay? What was it?” Patrick asked, walking to the front of the group. 

“The glass. Sorry,” I said. 

“Oh. Oh. No, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine guys, let’s go find Spence,” I said hurriedly.

“What?” Brendon asked. 

“Um. The, uh, I just. I just freaked out because of like, the... whatever. Where does Spencer live?”

“Down a few streets... are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I don’t like the sound of the glass smashing. Sorry,” I forced out, walking in front. 

“But why?” He really wasn’t going away. God damn it, Brendon. 

“Uh.”

“Something happened that he doesn’t wanna talk about,” Patrick intervened. I silently thanked him before realising, oh yeah Patrick. 

“Where were we?” I asked him. 

“Oh! Uh, well...”

I watched Ryan smirking away in the corner of my eye. Brendon was bouncing happily, Jon and Andy looked slightly confused but happy, and Joe was just chilling, but seemed mildly pleased with the situation. 

“Let’s continue,” I said, grabbing Patrick’s hand and walking again. The others followed in some sort of straggly party and we set off to Spencer’s house. 

“Um... eight tickets, please,” Brendon said to the teenager behind the counter. 

“Woah, big gay crew,” he said, typing something into a computer. I was holding Patrick’s hand and Brendon and Ryan were being very affectionate, but still. Not cool. Me being me, I was too shy to say anything, but thankfully Brendon was actually a decent human being. 

“Woah dude, chill, yeah I’m gay and so is my boyfriend, so don’t say that.”

“God, you gays are annoying aren’t you?”

“Just give us the tickets,” Ryan muttered, clinging on to Brendon more tightly. 

“Why?”

“Because you’re a homophobic asshole and we just payed, so it’s kind of illegal for you to not,” I said finally. 

“Calm down there, you-“

“Kaden, what’s going on?” Another boy, slightly older said, walking over. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, giving us the tickets. 

“Okay. You guys want popcorn? It's a discount if you’ve got six or more people!” The older guy said. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Brendon said as Kaden skulked off to the next register. The second guy grabbed us two buckets of popcorn while chattering away. 

“Okay, enjoy the movie!”

“Oh my god, that was scary,” Patrick said as we found our seats. His hand was tighter on mine and his eyes were filled with worry. 

“It’s alright, homophobic people like that exist everywhere. And they suck. But it’s okay,” I replied as Brendon passed our bucket down, to share with Joe and Andy. 

“I’m so excited!” Ryan whispered loudly. 

“Yes babe, we know you’re the biggest Beatles fanboy to grace this earth.”

“Be quiet Brendon, I think it’s starting!”

The movie was good. But even better was the theatre kiss. 

It was a kissing scene, and Patrick had his head leaned on my shoulder. I faced him slowly, and he looked up at me. Even in the dark, I could see how beautiful his eyes were - so many different colours. 

“Do you really like me, or am I dreaming?” He whispered. 

“I can prove it’s not a dream,” I replied, and his head lifted. 

“Really? How?”

“Like this,” I whispered, and slowly leaned in, closed my eyes and kissed him. It was simple and quick, but the best thing I had ever done.


	10. It’s Not My Fault I’m A Maniac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

Pete slept in my bed that night. With clothes on. But we cuddled. It was pretty great. 

“Patrick, I... thank you so much. I don’t even know how to say it properly, just thank you.”

“For what?”

“Literally everything that you’ve done. Helping me with him, letting me live in your house - in your room, even - and accepting me,” his pretty brown eyes were shining in the moonlight. 

“No, thank you. And your dad-“

“He’s... um. Not,” Pete whispered. 

“Not your dad?” I asked, confused. 

“Yeah. Uh. It’s complicated.”

“Oh,” I whispered, “so that’s why you miss your dad? Is he dead?”

“No... can we talk about something else? I’m sorry,” Pete replied, looking away. 

“But... okay. Yeah,” I said, stroking his black hair. 

“Goodnight, Patrick.”

“Goodnight, Pete.”

I slept peacefully - until my sleep was disrupted with almost being pushed out of the bed. Pete was twisting and turning, sweaty and muttering under his breath. 

“Pete, wake up,” I said panicking. 

“Please don’t, it’s not what you think.”

“Pete, come on, wake up, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you.”

“No! Don’t! Stop!” His face was twisted in pain and tears ran down it like a river. 

“I’m not hurting you, it’s okay!”

All of a sudden, he gasped, shot up, then saw me and flung himself at the wall. 

“You’re gonna... no, stop, stop.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said reassuringly. 

“Liar,” He whispered, distraught. 

“No, I promise, okay?”

“I’m sorry, it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Pete said, curling up into a ball in the corner of the bed. I sighed and slowly moved closer. 

“Don’t touch me!” Pete screamed, and there were footsteps outside the door. 

“What’s happening?” Molly asked, opening the door and coming inside. 

“He’s having a nightmare,” I said to her, “I don’t know what to do, he thinks I’m gonna hurt him.”

“What’s going on?” Her annoying friend, Ella or something, asked from the doorway. 

“Uh... Ella, your mum’s a therapist right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t really care about her work,” Ella replied, staring at Pete questioningly. I sighed.

“I don’t think it’s best for everyone to be in here,” I said as he sobbed. 

“Patrick, just get him to calm down a bit, then like, sing to him or something. That makes him happy, right?”

“Yeah... thanks Molly,” I said, gesturing her out of the room. I caught a snippet of her conversation once she had closed the door. 

“What’s wrong with the other one?”

“Uh, I probably can’t tell you. He doesn’t wanna talk about it,” and for once I respected Molly. 

“Freak.” My blood boiled. I rarely got angry, and I wasn’t much good at being angry, but when she was talking about Pete like that I just wanted to go and throw a pillow at her face or something. That wouldn’t hurt her too much. 

“Ella, shut up. He’s a nice guy, just a bit shy.”

“Yeah, I thought he was hot, but if he’s like that...”

“Let’s just go to bed.”

I made a mental note not to make Ella pancakes when I cooked them. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, okay? I’m not him, I won’t hurt you, you can trust me. Alright? Do you want me to sing to you?”

Pete looked up and slowly, tearfully nodded. 

“Don’t panic, no not yet,” I began. It was one I had sung before, but he seemed to like it. 

After a while, he slowly unraveled in himself, and buried his head in my shoulder. Throwing his arms around me, he slowly began to relax and I hugged him back, laying down. Together, we fell asleep. 

“Do you, um, wanna. Do you wanna do something today - just you and me... like,” I said the next morning, hugging Pete in bed.

“A date?” He finished, and I nodded, “Really? With me?”

“Well, who else would it be with?”

“Oh, right,” he blushed, “yeah. I’d love that. Thanks, Patrick.”

“No, thank you. Thanks, Pete.”

He smiled softly and I booped his nose gently. 

“Want pancakes?” I asked playfully. 

“Yeah!”

I giggled, then slowly unwrapped my arms and ran downstairs, Pete following happily. Molly and Ella were already sitting downstairs, talking about some stupid boy in their class. 

“Hi guys,” Molly said casually as I grabbed ingredients. I said a quick good morning before getting out the flour, sticking a finger in it, and then wiping it on Pete’s nose. 

“Hey no!” 

I laughed again, throwing everything into a bowl. 

“You probably should have measured that, you know.”

“Hmm, yeah, eh. Anyway, what do you wanna do for the date?” I asked him, putting the emphasis on the word date. 

“Date? Are they really gay? I thought you were joking,” Ella whispered to Molly. 

“Yes, Pete is... Pete is my boyfriend,” I said confidently, cracking an egg slightly too hard. Pete blushed and looked down at the ground, smiling. 

I made him smile. I like that. 

Ella looked as if she was about to say something, but thankfully Molly glared at her and instead, she took a sharp intake of breath and pointed her chin upwards, turning back to Molly. 

“Sorry,” I whispered to Pete. He shook his head, eyes wide. 

“Too many homophobes, man, I’m used to it.”

“Man?”

“Well, you are, I assume,” he blushed again. 

“Would you like to confirm that statement?” I asked, shocked at even my own confidence. Pete crosses his arms, biting back a smile as his face flushed even darker. 

“Maybe later,” he whispered. I laughed again and grabbed his hand, placing it on the handle of the whisk. 

“Look, have a go,” I said brightly. He looked at me questioningly, then began to whisk the pancake batter with so much force I wondered how it wasn’t spilling out of the bowl. 

While watching him, I absentmindedly picked up a pen from the countertop and began fiddling with it. Pete suddenly gasped and grabbed the pen out of my hand before furiously scribbling on his hand. 

“Sorry, just thought of something.”

“Creative outburst,” I said, “I have them all the time.”

“Yeah... but, uh, date?”

“Oh yeah! Well, there’s... actually, it’s not very romantic, but there’s a concert nearby that sounds cool,” I suggested. 

“Oh yeah! Racetraitor, I think,” Pete said, getting over excited and whisking the batter a little too much. I slowly grabbed the whisk from his hands and turned on the stove. 

“Something like that. I don’t know many of the local bands here, I just saw it somewhere. Do you know where it is?”

He nodded, helping me get a pan out and set up the pancakes for cooking. Slowly, we made them, or at least I did - Pete watched me do it after he burned three in a row. I set the fluffy pancakes down on a plate and grabbed a few condiments from the cupboard. 

“Thanks Trick!” Pete said happily, grabbing one the second I placed the plate on the table. 

“Trick?”

“Yeah. Nickname,” he giggled. 

“Aww, you’ve already got nicknames for each other,” Molly said teasingly, “but god, you’re doing better than I am.”

“Ha. I am.”

Pete began to devour the pancakes. 

“It’s like you’ve never had them before!” I exclaimed. His eating slowed, the corners of his mouth turned down and his face went a deep red. 

“Um, I haven’t had them for a while, uh, my...” he trailed off, looking up at the window. 

“Oh. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I won’t... sorry,” I said quickly. My heart ached as I looked at him biting his lip. 

“It’s fine,” he said reassuringly, “I still like them. I love pancakes!”

“I love... pancakes as well,” I said, causing him to look at me in surprise and delight, and then turn back to his plate with a slight smirk. 

“I should write a love song. About pancakes.”

“Yeah, I’m just so devoted to pancakes.”

“Pancakes,” Pete said with a cheeky smile, before we continued to eat.


	11. It’s Not Funny Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

“Am I more than you bargained for yet?” Patrick said quizzically, reading over the sheet of notebook paper in his hand.

“Yeah... I don’t know. Sorry, never mind.”

“No, no... I like it, actually, and it’s, uh, it could be something like this,” he replied, fiddling with the guitar in his hands and playing a few chords. 

“Okay, what’s the rest of the lyrics, um... I’ve been dying to tell you,” he played more, “anything... you wanna hear, cause that’s just who I am this week.”

He hummed a tune out, immediately putting it to his guitar. 

“Like this! Isn’t it cool?” 

“I love it,” I replied, eyes full of awe as I watched him strum away, humming and occasionally singing. I messed around on my bass a little, playing a note or two, and he nodded excitedly, fedora almost falling to the ground. 

“Yeah! And then for this bit, it could be like a pre chorus - the next part, that’s the chorus right? Yeah, so like... drop a heart,” He strummed quickly, “break a name.”

“Awesome, dude!”

“Dude? Haha.”

“Oh, first you complain about me calling you Trick, now I’m not even allowed to call you dude?”

“Mm. Well. I actually like Trick. But only for you.”

I blushed and smiled, looking back down at my bass and plucking it without thinking. 

“We’re going down,” I muttered, “no. We’re going down down.”

“I’m an earlier round,” Patrick continued, reading off my sheet of lyrics.

“And sugar we’re going down swinging,” we sang - well, Patrick sung, and I mumbled. 

“I like that,” I said, “you’re just too good at singing, and guitar. Wait, don’t you play drums as well?”

“I play a lot of things,” he said offhandedly, “but the drums are my favourite! I always feel at home when I’m playing them.”

I smiled and watched as he adjusted his fedora for the thirtieth time. 

“Of course you do.”

Our group at school was getting quite big. Brendon, Ryan, Spencer and Jon (who all seemed to be talking about starting a band, which knowing Brendon and his ability to hit high notes wasn’t that shocking), Joe, Andy, Patrick and I.

It was all chill. All the time. Every day. 

Until one day, when Gerard stormed over to our table, flames almost spitting from his mouth as he shouted my name. 

“Wentz!”

I nodded, slightly fearfully. 

“Come with me you little-“

“Hey,” Brendon interrupted, “what’s going on? Pete?”

“Uh. Gerard needs my help. Bye.”

“No Pete you-“ Patrick said but I cut him off with a sharp look that instead made a cloud of worry fall over his pretty face. 

I braved myself as I followed Gerard through the hallways into a closet. 

“Why aren’t you dating Mikey yet? You’ve got another week before I let it out on you and Stump.”

“Gerard, it’s been a week, I hardly even talk to the guy. Also, more importantly, I don’t like him, and I don’t like boys in general.”

“You think I’m homophobic?” He sneered, beginning to corner me. 

“Uh. Get, get away please.”

He simply laughed in my face, getting closer. 

“I... I’ll do... get away, stop.” My chest was about to burst, and it felt like some force was wrapping hot metal around my entire body, letting it cool and set me into place, the same breath stuck in my throat. My vision was going darker and darker. 

“You know, Wentz, you remind me of-“

“Gerard Way, get away from him,” a silhouette filled the open door, and as Gerard moved away, startled, I saw the tall figure of Mr Gaskarth. In that moment, I silently thanked him. 

“I...”

“I’ll see you in my office. Peter, are you alright?”

I shook my head, unbothered to even correct him. 

“Patrick-“ I gasped. He nodded and turned back to the door, stopping a passing student. 

“Can you go back to the cafeteria and ask for Patrick Stump to come here? Special order of Gaskarth.”

The student, I think her name was Hayley something, nodded, her fiery red hair bouncing over her shoulders as she turned back to the cafeteria direction. 

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I want Patrick first,” I mumbled, hating myself for sounding like a baby. My eyes were filling with tears or pain, regret and something else I couldn’t place, my head hurting from holding in all the tears because I didn’t want to cry again. 

I will never cry again. 

“Hi sir, wh- oh! Pete, I’m so sorry! Why did you go? You knew! I’m sorry!” Patrick gushed, running over to me and holding my hand. 

“He was, was gonna hurt you, he, he said.”

Mr Gaskarth’s eyes widened, and he stood up fully. 

“We should go to my office. Peter, can you get there?”

I nodded, looking at the ground that seemed a bit too far for my liking. 

The walk to the office didn’t seem real. It was only when I felt the fabric of the chair that I was existing in a fathomable plane of reality again. 

“Can you tell me about the events that led to that happening?” Mr Gaskarth asked, crossing his legs and folding his fingers into each other on the desk. 

“A week ago,” I began with a sigh, “Gerard made me come into a classroom. He said that I had to date his brother. I, uh... he said that I had to break up with Patrick - but I told him that we’re not dating...”

“We are, he doesn’t know,” Patrick said firmly, gripping my hand tighter. I nodded and swallowed. 

“Um, and then he said. He said he’ll hurt Patrick, and hurt my friends. Uh, yeah. Then today, um, he like took me into the hallway. Into the cupboard, asked me why I wasn’t dating Mikey yet. I told him it was only a week. He then got mad and I told him I didn’t like boys and-“ I choked on my words and closed my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing. 

“And then I found you?” I nodded slowly. 

“Okay, thank you.”

“Wait,” Patrick interrupted. 

“Yes?”

“Can I tell him about...” He looked at me, warmth in his eyes, and I nodded.

“Okay. Uh. Pete’s - are you sure?” I nodded again, looking at his soft hair and wishing there wasn’t another person in front of us so I could touch it. 

I zoned out while Patrick explained to Mr Gaskarth what had happened, instead staring at the walls. There was a birthday card on it, and a few drawings. 

Some were well done, presumably by students. One was a crayon scribble, clearly by a little kid - but it was up front and center in a frame. So Mr Gaskarth had a family - well, of course he did, I told myself, he’s not just his work. He had a wife and kids. 

“Pete,” Patrick said softly. 

“Hm? Yeah?” I snapped out of my daze, turning to the principal. 

“Peter,” Mr Gaskarth said, his face softening, “do you want to talk to the school therapists? That service is available-“

I shook my head.

“Okay. We’ll look into getting Gerard suspended... you do know that there’s a gay-straight alliance?”

I internally rolled my eyes. If I started going to that, I was automatically outed. 

“I really don’t think-“

“Pete, we can try it out?” Patrick looked at me with his adorable puppy dog eyes. 

“I don’t want to be outed to the entire school. To anyone - the principal of all people is enough,” I said, muttering the last part. 

Mr Gaskarth heard, however, and paused for a moment before opening a drawer on his desk and pulling out a photograph. It was a picture of him and another man with a blonde streak in his hair at a wedding. I was surprised, and I guess it showed on my face because Mr Gaskarth chuckled. 

“That’s my husband, Jack, and I, Peter. I of all people am not going to judge you. If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. But back to the point - your home life. Why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“I... do I have to talk about it?” Patrick squeezed my hand a little tighter, and nodded at me.


	12. My Heart Is Like A Stallion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

Pete’s hands were getting sweaty, but I nodded at him to tell Mr Gaskarth about himself - I didn’t even know the full story. 

“I... my father died when I was eleven. He was my world... it was a heart attack. And so then it was my mother and I, until freshman year, when she got married to my... stepdad. He was nice for about a month, until he started hitting me.”

I winced, and Pete looked down, faltering a bit before moving on. 

“Yeah... so then it became really regular, and every day I’d come home, he’d hit me and call me slurs until he passed out. My mother was working and I didn’t want to worry her. She always came home late and left early so she never saw him awake.”

My eyes were welling up in tears for the boy. He was so beautiful. I rarely hated people but god, I hated his stepdad. He bit his lip, giving me a quick glance as if asking for reassurance. Mr Gaskarth kept a straight face, but I saw the deep concern that ran through it. 

“And then... I- my mother left. I don’t know why. I thought she loved me. But she left, and I was stuck with him... for two years. And then Trick came here, and found me the other day and... I don’t know.”

“Peter...” Mr Gaskarth looked speechless. “I’m very sorry that happened to you. Your... I understand why you didn’t tell anyone. But he’s in custody now, correct?” Pete and I nodded in unison. 

“Good. Are you seeking any sort of professional help?” Pete shook his head. 

“I recommend you do, and Patrick, that you ask your parents to arrange something for him. It’s incredibly kind of you to protect him like this. And Peter - Pete. This explains your disposition to, well, everything, but I wish you’d have told me sooner. As long as you’re safe at the moment, because that’s what we want. Now... onto the topic of Gerard Way.”

Pete nodded, looking to me. 

“He said he was going to hurt Patrick.”

I rolled my eyes in a joking manner to Pete to indicate that this was most likely an empty threat. 

“I don’t think he means it-“

“No, Trick. You don’t know him. In freshman year, he stabbed a kid because he insulted his hair. That was at his old school, so he moved here to where Mikey goes to school.”

“That’s true,” Mr Gaskarth said, and my eyes widened, “however, there were severe consequences, that is, getting expelled, and there have been severe consequences for any incidents that have occurred here.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he won’t-“

The bell rang, a blaring interruption. Pete was looking at me with his beautiful eyes - I could get lost in them. 

“What classes do you have now? I’ll sign you out, we aren’t finished,” Mr Gaskarth looked between us. 

“English... you too, right?”

Pete nodded. 

“Yeah. Uh. What else did Gerard say?” I asked Pete, encouraging him to tell Mr Gaskarth. 

Pete bit his lip, but turned back to the principal. 

“Yeah... he just said he would hurt Patrick and all my friends and me... I don’t think it’s an empty threat. That’s all really from today, but the other day he pushed me over and said I... the same things, basically.”

“This... you didn’t tell anyone the other day? No teacher saw you?”

Pete shook his head. I smiled sympathetically. 

“Sir, if I can...” Mr Gaskarth nodded and I continued, “Okay. Gerard said if Pete told anyone, he’d hurt me. I don’t... he was just looking out for me, it’s okay.”

“Pete, I understand that, but we - I have the power as principal to stop him. He knows that we’re keeping an eye on his behaviour. As much as he could carry through with his threats, I urge you to tell me if it happens again. Which, he’ll be getting suspended, so hopefully it won’t.”

Pete nodded at Mr Gaskarth with a small smile. 

“Thanks sir... I will. I just don’t want Patrick to get hurt.” 

The principal nodded, giving us a reassuring smile. 

Mr Gaskarth started to tell Pete something else, but I was looking at one of the trophies on the filing cabinet. Alternative Press Album of The Year - 2018. When did Mr Gaskarth put out an album?

“...okay? You can go now, if there’s nothing else. And boys, I’m really glad you’ve become friends... more, even.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” I said, taking my eyes off the trophy, “come on, Pete. English.”

“With Gerard,” Pete reminded me. 

I sighed, but Mr Gaskarth just shook his head. 

“If he does anything more to you, he’s getting expelled. He’s aware of the consequences.”

I looked at him gratefully, and took Pete by the hand out of the office and back to our lockers. 

“So... Gerard’s not going to hurt me. You don’t have to worry, babe,” I said, the last part just slipping out. But Pete smiled at it, letting go of my hand to open his locker and get out his English books. 

“Yeah... still, the school isn’t responsible for what he does outside of school, which is what I’m worried about.”

“He doesn’t know where I live,” I reminded him, “and even if he does manage to do something, Mr Gaskarth will find a way to punish him.”

Pete just sighed, and started on the way to English. 

“I sure hope so.” 

As we entered the English classroom, Frank threw a balled up piece of paper at my head. Gerard, however, was nowhere to be seen - probably talking to Mr Gaskarth. 

“Mr Iero, that is unacceptable. Detention. Mr Wentz, Mr Stump, you may go to your seats,” the teacher said, before continuing on with the plot of the book we were meant to be reading. 

“So... what about Mikey?” Patrick asked, “You said that’s what Gerard wanted - for you to date him.”

“Of course I’m not going to date Mikey, babe. I’m-“

“Hey guys!” 

We looked up at the same time to see a short girl with firey red hair holding her books. I remembered her as the girl who had told me to go to Pete and Mr Gaskarth at lunch time. 

“Hey... Hayley, right?” Pete asked. 

She nodded, putting her stuff down and sitting next to me at the desk. 

“Oh - I hope you don’t mind. I just don’t want to sit next to Frank Iero. With Gerard away, he’s goddamn annoying.”

I nodded, moving over slightly to let her sit. 

“I’m Patrick,” I said. 

“Oh, I know,” she said, before realising how that sounded, “Mr Gaskarth wanted you at lunch and sent me.”

I nodded, looking at Pete, who was scribbling something down as fast as he could. 

“What’s he doing?” Hayley asked. 

“Pete? A lyric, probably. He’s very creative.”

I admired him as he wrote a good few lines. I could barely make out his messy handwriting, but he sat up and put the now folded sheet of paper in his pocket. I smiled at him, not wanting to do too much because neither of us were out, and Frank Iero was two rows behind probably watching our every move to report back to Gerard. 

“So... what music do you like, Hayley?” I asked, trying to make some nice conversation. 

She beamed at this, “A lot of 80s stuff. Anything really.”

“I like 80s music too,” I said, smiling back at her. 

“That’s so cool!”

I laughed a little and looked back to Pete. He was clearly zoned out, staring blankly at the classroom wall. 

The bell rang suddenly, and the classroom was sent into a rush. 

“The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!” Ms Waters yelled, and everyone sat back down, irritated, “and you’re dismissed now.”

“What class do you have now?” I asked Hayley, as I packed up my things. 

“Uh, physics, I think.”

“Pete, what have we got?” Pete rummaged in his pockets, taking out a crumpled piece of paper, reading it, and putting it back in. He grabbed out another piece of paper with his schedule and showed it to me. 

“We have physics too... do you want to sit with us?” Hayley nodded excitedly, and the three of us left to the last class of the day.


	13. They Love It More When It’s Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

Hayley walked home with us, leaving a few blocks before Patrick’s house. I liked her, she was nice and very bubbly. I couldn’t match that energy, but I invited her to sit at our lunch table because I knew that Brendon could.

We got home and were alone. Patrick tossed me an apple and we went up to his room. 

Immediately, he went to his computer, googling something.

“Pete, look! Mr Gaskarth is famous!”

“What?” I asked. 

“Today in his office there was a trophy for best album, so I just googled Gaskarth and he was in a band! They released so many albums, look - and his name is Alex.”

“That’s crazy. That’s definitely him. All Time Low... play one of their songs.” I looked over his shoulder at the search results. 

Patrick clicked on one of the songs that came up under the band - Weightless. 

“He sounds so young in this,” Patrick muttered, looking at the release date - 2008.

“Isn’t that the guy - his husband?” I pointed to someone else in the band photo. 

“I think so,” Patrick said, “that’s cute.”

“Not as cute as you,” I told him, and he turned in his chair. 

“You’re cuter,” he said, and I smiled. Patrick got out of his chair fully and was about to say something but the door was flung open. 

“What do you want, Molly?” Patrick sighed. 

“You guys are so cute. Keep it PG. And Mom told me to tell you that we’re going out for dinner, so get dressed.”

Patrick nodded and Molly shut the door. 

“I’ll go get changed-“

“You can stay,” I said instinctively, before realising and widening my eyes, “no, I mean, I’ll go. Your clothes are here.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows, but opened the door for me and I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a semi formal shirt. 

“Pete,” Molly said as I passed her bedroom, “are you okay?”

I smiled at her. As much as she was an annoying thirteen year old, she was sweet. It ran in the family. 

“Yeah. Patrick and I talked to the principal today.”

“You know, if ever you don’t want to talk to Patrick, you can talk to me, okay?” I almost cried at this but just nodded and continued to the bathroom. 

As I took off my shirt, I examined the bruises and scars all over my stomach and back. Tiny scars from the glass littered my chest. I turned around, so I wouldn’t see myself in the mirror, and got changed. 

I came back into Patrick’s room and he was sitting at his computer, changed into a shirt and jeans. 

“Are you still stalking Mr Gaskarth?”

He laughed, “I’m intrigued. The principal at my old school wasn’t in a band.”

Oh yeah, Patrick has an old school. 

“Why did you move, by the way?” He squirmed, looking uncomfortable. 

“I... I got outed by this guy I thought was my friend. He was the only person I told, I thought I could trust him. But he wrote... he wrote on the school bathroom. ‘Patrick Stump is a… f slur, yknow’. And then... yeah.”

I was speechless. He was so angelic. Why would anyone be that mean to him?

“Dude, I...” I hugged him, even though I was still pretty uncomfortable with touching. 

“That’s why I don’t want anyone to know here.”

I nodded, still hugging him, before I leaned back, looking at his baby blue eyes, and kissing him. He was slightly taken aback but leaned into it, wrapping his arms tighter around me. 

“Are you guys... we’re going,” Molly said from the doorway, wearing flared jeans and a chunky knit sweater. 

I stepped back from Patrick quickly, running a hand through my hair. 

“Sorry,” I said to her. She just smiled and left, leaving the door open. 

“Let’s go,” Patrick said, and I followed him, closing the door behind us. Molly and his parents were waiting downstairs. His mom smiled when she noticed us coming down, and I smiled back. I almost cried again, just from how nice they treated me. Nobody had done that since my dad died, so it felt really really good. 

We ended up going to a nice Chinese restaurant. I was pretty hesitant to order much as I didn’t want to spend Patrick’s parents money, but Patrick convinced me that it was okay. 

“Goodnight Pete.”

“Goodnight,” I said to him, turning over towards the room and closing my eyes. 

The next morning we had Physics with Hayley. She and Patrick chatted away about music or something, but I was zoned out. Gerard was nowhere to be seen - suspended, probably. Yay. 

I couldn’t help but notice the looks that Hayley gave Patrick though - it was becoming pretty obvious that she had a crush on him. Of course, she didn’t know about us, or even that he was gay, so I guess it was okay, however oblivious Patrick was. 

“Guys, this is Hayley. Hayley, this is Bren, Ryan, Jon, Spence, Andy and Joe,” Patrick introduced and they all waved. She sat down next to Patrick and talked to him and Brendon. 

“Dude, what’s that on your shoulder?” Ryan asked me, looking concerned. I looked down - why the hell did I wear a singlet today? - and saw a sizable bruise. 

“Oh. I fell down the stairs last week. Not fun.”

Ryan looked sceptical but said nothing more on the subject, “Hayley seems pretty into Patrick. She’s like you were on that first day. Does she know about you guys?”

I shook my head, “She doesn’t. Patrick’s pretty oblivious, though. I know he’s not into her, he just wants to be friendly. Wait - why does she like Patrick? Isn’t she dating Taylor York?”

“Pete...” Ryan laughed, “they broke up like a year ago. Speed up.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing at him. 

“Your eyeliner’s wack, by the way. Do you need mine again?”

“Says the one with the Mona Lisa on his face. Did it smudge?”

Ryan nodded, handing me his eyeliner and mirror again. 

“Want to hang out later?” he asked as I fixed it up. 

“Sure,” I replied, “oh, did you know that Mr Gaskarth was in a band?”

“All Time Low. Yeah. Bren and I googled it after seeing the album trophy. I’m surprised actually, they’re really good.”

“Mr Gaskarth is pretty cool.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows, “I thought you hated him for those friendship project things?”

“Well... if it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have met Patrick. And he was just looking out for me. Plus, he’s getting Gerard suspended for what he- oh.”

The entire table had gone silent. 

“What did Gerard do?” Brendon asked. 

“He... nothing really. Threats.”

“Is that why he’s not here today?” I shrugged. 

“You got Gerard Way suspended?” Hayley asked. 

I nodded.

“Wow... how? Nobody ever crosses him.”

“Mr Gaskarth found him - found us in a closet where he was threatening me.”

Hayley nodded, then turned back to Patrick. She ruffled his hair and I felt a small shot of jealousy. Of course, Patrick was gay, and as far as he knew, she was just being friendly. Hayley has no bad intentions that I could see - she was just clueless. And I was fine for it to stay that way, Patrick and I still in the closet. 

We had Math next, and Ryan was in our class so he sat with us. 

“We have a new student today-“

I immediately stopped paying attention. As much as I was trying to be friendly with all the new people in our friend group, I really didn’t care about a lot of other people. 

The teacher went on to explain the project - we had to be in a group of four. I had no idea who would want to go in our group - emo loser, vintage gay kid, and the no longer new kid. 

That is, until the new new kid sat down at our desk. 

“Hey, I was told to sit here. The teacher said I’ll work with you guys.”

I looked up at him. He looked insane - neon green hair, oversized sunglasses, a colourful sweater and two different coloured eyes. 

“I’m Awsten. A-W-S-T-E-N. ”

God, I can’t keep up with everyone. If my life was a book, all the characters would be too confusing. 

“Pete,” I said. Ryan and Patrick introduced themselves and we listened to the teacher explain whatever we had to do. 

Awsten did not stop talking. He was really nice, but like Hayley and Brendon he was full of energy. 

The bell rang and we went off to our last class - English. No Gerard, which was good. And Frank only called Patrick a baby one time. 

“Hey Patrick... and Pete. What’s up?” Hayley asked, sitting next to Patrick yet again. 

“Not much,” Patrick said, “We met a new kid in Math. He seems nice.”

Hayley nodded her head. 

“New kids are cute.”

Patrick laughed, but I knew he was still clueless. I just leaned back and listened to the teacher.


	14. Do You Wanna Feel Beautiful?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

“Hayley has a crush on you, you know,” Pete said as we walked home. I made a confused face. 

“A crush? On me? She’s just friendly, Pete. You don’t need to worry.”

Pete laughed, shaking his head and looking at me with his gorgeous deep brown eyes. 

“That’s not being friendly. That’s flirting.”

I raised my eyebrows. Pete was just overprotective. Hayley was just nice. 

“She’s like that with everyone-“

“No, Trick. You’re so oblivious, it’s cute. But she’s totally flirting with you, trust me.”

I rolled my eyes, “You weren’t like that.”

“I’m not one for flirting,” Pete replied, “but I look at you the same way she does. She’s got a major crush on you. Ryan agrees with me, too.”

I shook my head again, adjusting my hat and opening the kitchen door. 

“I know you’re gay and you don’t like her back. But she does like-“

“Jealous, Pete?” Molly asked from the kitchen table, looking up from her phone. 

“Not jealous,” Pete said defensively, “this girl just really likes Patrick.”

“No, she doesn’t. She’s just very friendly.”

I had no idea why Pete was thinking this. She honestly just was friendly. And girls were supposedly more affectionate - no way Hayley had a crush on me. She just did friendship differently to Pete’s friends, that was all - besides, there were so many other boys she could have a crush on that weren’t me. She’d just ask me out or something if she did like me. 

“You’re just worried,” I told him as we went up to my room. 

“Why would I be worried about a girl liking you? I’m just saying.”

I laughed again at him. He was cute, but he definitely was jealous. 

“Anyway.”

“Anyway... dead whales explode sometimes.”

I looked at him, horrified. He just shrugged and sat on the bed. 

“I- how... why do you know that?”

“Jon. Knows a bunch of weird fun facts. Something to do with gas building up in them,” he continued, indifferent. 

Whales exploded! That’s messed up!

“Uh... have you got any more fun facts?”

“You’re cute.”

“That’s an opinion,” I muttered, sitting next to him on the bed. 

“No. Fact,” he said, looking down at my lips then back up to my eyes, “is Molly going to interrupt us?”

I laughed a little, but shook my head and leaned in to his kiss. 

After a moment, we pulled apart, and I giggled. Pete had been my first kiss in the theatre, so I hadn’t had much experience, but he was a good kisser. 

“Still worried about Hayley?” I asked. 

Pete sighed, looking into my eyes. He shook his head. 

“Not worried. Never.” 

I stood up and grabbed my guitar. 

“Where were we the other day?”

“The song? Sugar? Yeah. Figuring out the bridge, I think - but I added another bit to the verse.”

I nodded, and he grabbed his bass, giving me the lyrics in a neatened version of his handwriting. 

“Am I more than you bargained for yet...”

By the time it was dark, we had figured out the entire song. 

“Now we just need a band to perform it with,” I said. 

“Zac Farro’s a good drummer... no, I think he’s in a band with Hayley. I think Andy plays drums, we can ask him,” Pete replied, and I smiled. 

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

He nodded excitedly, and then gave me another piece of notebook paper. 

“This is another song. It’s called... I don’t have a name for it yet.”

“I’m holding out and I’m holding on to every letter and every song,” I read the rest silently, “that’s good. I like that. We could call it... All Goes To Hell? I don’t know.”

Pete shook his head. “Not quite right.”

I nodded, but started picking at the guitar. 

“That’s good, do that again.”

The next day at school, Gerard was gone again - a relief for Pete. I did see Mikey, who stared at Pete for an uncomfortably long time. I said nothing to Pete, but even in the cafeteria I noticed him sitting with Frank and Ray and staring at my boyfriend. Pete didn’t seem to notice Mikey, and I didn’t want to ruin his mood so I didn’t point it out. Hayley distracted me unknowingly by telling me about her band’s show the previous night, which sounded fun. Her red hair had been dyed more orange, and she’d chopped it up quite a bit more. It suited her. Any hair suited her, really.

“Dude, she’s really into you,” Brendon said once she left the table to go to the bathroom. 

“No she’s not, she’s just nice,” I said, but the others shook their heads. 

“I- Andy, you don’t think she likes me, do you?”

Andy shrugged, but after a moment, he nodded, “Yeah. I think she does, sorry.”

Pete sat there with a smug look on his face. 

“You guys just don’t know how some people are friendly.”

“Trick,” said Pete, “She’s only like that with you. How don’t you realise?”

“No she... okay maybe, but just because I talk to her the most. She’s really nice. You’re just jealous that she’s going to-“

“Hey, I’m back. What’s wrong, Patrick?” Hayley returned. 

“Nothing. You were telling me about your song Conspiracy - it sounds cool, tell me more.”

Ryan winked at me, but turned back to continue talking with Pete and Brendon about god knows what. Hayley looked sceptical, but kept telling me about her song. She was really passionate about music, like me. 

We had music next, which was a fun class because there was Hayley, Joe, Spencer, Awsten and a few other kids that I didn’t know the name of but were really nice. And Pete, of course. 

“Okay, everyone - so, we’re going to be doing something a little different - battle of the bands. I’m splitting this class up into four groups, so you’ll all be groups of five, and you can choose what song you want to cover. I’ll be the judge of the best one,” the music teacher said. That sounded fun - making a song with a group. 

“Group one - Peter Wentz, Spencer Smith, Victor Fuentes, Tay Jardine, and Ray Toro.”

Pete and Spencer high fived as they went to join the other three students. 

“Group two - Awsten Knight, Patrick Stump, Kellin Quinn, Hayley Williams, and Otto Wood.” 

I smiled at Hayley, and a kid I thought was Kellin came over to me with Awsten and the other boy - Otto. 

“Hi, I’m Patrick,” I said to the others. 

“Hayley.”

“Awsten, what’s up.”

“Otto.”

“I’m Kellin.”

“So,” I started, “what instruments do you all play?”

“I sing,” Hayley told the others, “but I can play piano and guitar.”

“I sing too,” Awsten said, pushing his sunglasses up, “but I can also play guitar and bass. And drums, a bit.”

“I play drums,” Otto said. 

“Same as Hayley,” Kellin said. 

“I play guitar, piano... drums, bass and trumpet a bit. And sing.”

“So we have four singers and one drummer,” Kellin noted, “Uh, does anyone want to just sing? We can do like... backup vocals for the others.”

“I can,” Hayley said. I hadn’t heard her sing yet, so I was happy with that. 

“I’ll play bass then?” Awsten asked. Kellin and I nodded, which left the two of us to guitar and backup vocals. This was going to be a fun project.


	15. I’m Outside The Door, Invite Me In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

My group was pretty good - we had a good drummer in Spencer, and for all he hung around the Way brothers and Frank, Ray was really nice and one hell of a guitarist. Tay was a good singer and Vic was decent at guitar and could do backup vocals. 

“How are you feeling about the project?” I asked Patrick. 

“Oh - pretty good. I think we’re going to do Eleanor Rigby,” he smiled. 

“Cool. We’re doing... I don’t know.” He didn’t say anything, just held my hand. 

“You’re so sweet.”

“I am?”

I laughed but nodded. He didn’t see how good he was. How pretty his baby blue eyes with flecks of grey and green were. His almost blonde hair. 

“Yes. When are you going to tell Hayley that we’re dating?”

Patrick rolled his eyes. 

“Oh god, Pete. Stop that. She doesn’t like me. If she asks me out, I’ll just say no respectfully.”

I nodded, deciding to stop the subject because it clearly annoyed him. 

As we were passing Manic Street, I felt sick. Every time we had walked home, I purposely didn’t look. But this time I did - and I saw something I thought I would never see again. 

“Mom,” I whispered. 

“Huh?”

“Mom,” I repeated, and Patrick looked over to where I was looking. 

My mother was talking to a police officer. She looked different from the last time I’d seen her - her hair was longer, and blonde, and she was wearing clothes that looked way too expensive for her. 

“Oh, Pete... is that your mother?”

I nodded weakly, and almost started walking to her when she turned around. 

“Peter!” 

I wanted to run to her, say how much I’d missed her, and that it was great she was finally home - but then I remembered. 

“Do you want to go to her?”

“She left me with him. Of course I don’t. Let’s go home.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I replied, but my head was pounding. 

Patrick didn’t seem too convinced, but he held my hand and walked a little slower to help my shaky legs back to his house. We got back to his house, and Molly was in the kitchen again. 

“You’re later than usual.”

Patrick shook his head at her and helped me up the stairs. I got into his bedroom and just lay on the bed, staring at his ceiling. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I never thought I’d see her again. She can’t just come back like that. It’s not fair of her. She left me with him for two years. Two years, Patrick. You saw the results of two nights. Two years with him is a lifetime of scars. You haven’t seen the worst of it, and I don’t want you to, because you’re not going to understand,” I ranted. 

“Pete, I do understand-“

“No,” I said to him, getting angry more at my parents than Patrick, “No you don’t. Your parents are still alive, and here all the time, and nice. You don’t get it, you really don’t. Don’t pretend you do, I don’t care.”

And with that, I left the room. I wasn’t really sure where I would go, so I decided to just go to the beach. 

“Pete?” Molly came out of her bedroom, “Pete, what’s wrong?”

“You don't under-“

“I don’t understand? No. But you can talk to me if you’re mad at Patrick.”

I started tearing up. 

“You... I’m just your brother’s friend. Why do you want me to talk to you?”

Molly sighed. “Just come in my room.”

I followed her down the hall, to her bedroom. It was very nice on the eyes - a black, white and green colour scheme. 

“First of all, you’re my brothers boyfriend. Meaning, you’re part of the family. And I saw how Patrick was treated at his old school, what that did to him. I saw how upset you’ve been. I just want to help you because I care about my brother - brothers.”

I was speechless, standing there in the middle of her room, an awkward teenage boy. 

“I...”

“You don’t have to say thank you. Just talk about what you need to talk about.”

“Okay. Uh. My mother - she left two years ago. After she married my stepdad - the one who... yeah. She left me with him, no contact, no reason for leaving, for two years. And she was there today. On the street. She came back... but it’s not fair. She left me with him for so long.”

“Oh. Oh. Can - do you mind if I hug you?” I nodded, even though she wasn’t Patrick. 

I smiled at her gratefully. Her eyes were very similar to Patrick’s, but she had dark brown, almost black, long hair. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I said. She smiled and continued talking to me for a good while. 

“Pete? Pete, where are you?” Patrick’s voice came from outside in the hallway. I looked at Molly, my eyes wide. 

“Should I?”

“Yeah,” she said, “he’s worried about you.”

“I was really mean to him.”

“So go and make it up to him.”

I smiled weakly, “okay. I... thank you so much.”

“No problem, Pete.”

I got up and left her room to see Patrick going down the stairs. 

“Trick. Patrick. I’m sorry,” He whipped his head around and his face softened. 

“No. Don’t be. I’m sorry. Where did you go?”

“Molly talked to me.”

Patrick smiled, and Molly came out of the room. 

“Thanks. Pete, come in here. I’m sorry.”

I nodded and went back into his bedroom, giving another small smile to Molly as she went back into hers.

Patrick and I ended up talking really late, just about everything. He was slowly becoming everything. 

We woke up early, despite the late night, and so arrived at school before anyone else was there. 

Well, there was one other person there. 

“Wentz,” Gerard spat, grabbing my shoulder from behind. 

“Gerard, go away,” Patrick said. Gerard just laughed, jerking me back. 

“You’re coming with me. I don’t care if I get expelled. You’re seriously in for it.”

“No,” I said, trying to push out of his grip and failing. 

“Gerard, get away from him,” Patrick pleaded. 

“No. No. Stump, if anyone hears about this, you will be gone in a second. Like this-“ he snapped his fingers in Patrick’s eyes, and Patrick stepped back nervously. 

“Gerard, get off me!”

He looked around, shoving his hand over my mouth. I tried to hit him, but he let go of my shoulder and caught my hands. 

“You are coming with me whether you like it or not.”

I didn’t say anything, but I stopped struggling. Still grabbing my wrist, he pulled me into one of the abandoned classrooms - oh. I was going to die. They were the classrooms where the real stuff went down - fights, teen pregnancies, drug dealing. There was no way I was making it out of here unscathed, and considering it was Gerard, alive. 

“Wentz. You didn’t listen twice. And then you decide to go make friends with the principal and get me suspended. What the hell is wrong with you? Just listen to me!” 

I said nothing, just stood against the wall. Saying nothing made it better on me than saying something. 

“You’re not going to talk?”

“I... why do I need to date Mikey?” I choked out.

“You don’t know what my brother’s been through,” Gerard sneered, “and you never will. You’ll never know anything else if you don’t date him. You and your - I’ll kill the Stump kid, too. He’s as bad as you.”

“You don’t know what I’ve been through,” I said quietly.

“What was that?”

“I-“ I took a deep breath, “you don’t know what I’ve been through. I’m not interested in your brother. He’ll be miserable if I date him. Really.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. 

“Pathetic,” he said, drawing his fist. I flinched as it rocketed towards me, hitting me in the stomach right on one of my wounds. It wasn’t that hard of a punch but I almost screamed from the pain. 

“Date-“ Punch. 

“My-“ Punch. 

“Brother,” Punch. 

I fell to the ground, yelling in pain. There were footsteps outside and the door opened. 

“Gerard! What did you do?”

“He didn’t want to date you.”

“That doesn’t - I don’t want you to - you hurt him!”

“You were fine with it the first time!”

Mikey ignored that statement, and instead knelt down next to me. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not going to date you,” I mumbled, trying my best to stand up and leave, but I couldn’t get off the ground. 

“I don’t care. I... why, Gerard?”

Gerard leaned against the wall, “I wanted to help you. And his friend is next, I see the way he talks to Hayley. She’s not getting hurt either.”

Mikey gasped slightly, “Gerard. Hurting Pete and Patrick isn’t fixing anything.”

“Patrick doesn’t want Hayley,” I said. 

“Lie.”

“Go away. He’s hurt. Look what you did to him - I can’t believe you. You used to be so kind.”

Gerard scrunched his nose but didn’t leave. 

“Both of you, go,” I told them. Mikey stood up, but again the oldest stayed. 

“Come on.”

“Let me apologise to Pete. You go,” Gerard told his brother, and for a moment I had hope. 

Until Mikey left and Gerard pulled me up by the shirt. 

“You are ruining my brothers life. And the Stump kid is going to ruin Hayley’s-“

“Why do you care about her?”

“I’ve known her for a long time. She’s too good for losers like you.” 

Hayley and Gerard were friends? What the hell? She was so nice, but Gerard was... Gerard. 

“Hayley wouldn’t want you hurting Patrick or me.”

Gerard just laughed and readjusted his grip on my shirt, lifting it up and revealing a bit of my stomach. 

“Oh my God,” he said suddenly, looking down. Out of all the things he could be looking at, I didn’t expect it to be the blood covering my torso. 

“Did I do that?”

“No,” I told him, “you didn’t. You just reopened it. I told you. You don’t know what I-“

“You probably deserved it,” he said, his expression turning from shock to rage, “I bet you did. Trying to screw people over all the time. You-“

The door burst open and I nearly fainted.


	16. We Can Go Back And Play Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

Pete was pale as a sheet, almost passed out while Gerard held him up. Blood stained his dark shirt and I watched as Gerard dropped him to the ground. 

“Gerard Way. You can consider yourself expelled, and this is going to the police,” Mr Gaskarth said, his voice scarier than I’d ever heard. After Gerard left with Pete, I had ran to his office, and then we’d been trying to find him. Eventually, Mikey Way ran up to us and told us that Pete was in the abandoned classrooms with Gerard. 

Pete looked almost dead. His eyes were closed, his face and torso bloodied. 

“Jesus, Pete,” I said, rushing over to his side.

“I’m... fine,” he whispered, “tis but a scratch.”

Mr Gaskarth was still yelling at Gerard. After a while, he told him to leave and get his stuff from his locker because he wasn’t coming back. 

“Pete. What - Gerard did that to you?”

Pete shook his head, “my stepdad ages ago. Gerard just opened it again.”

I grabbed the poor boy's hand, and he gave me the tiniest of smiles. 

“Patrick, can you go get the nurse?”

“No. Stay,” Pete muttered, and Mr Gaskarth turned to go outside, talking to someone - Mikey, probably. He stepped back in a moment later. 

“Pete, first aid is coming. Gerard’s getting expelled. You’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry.”

I was about to cry. Why would Gerard - why would anyone do anything to hurt him? 

“Pete, talk to me,” I begged. 

Pete said something inaudible, squeezing my hand. 

“What?”

“Sing to me.”

I looked nervously at Mr Gaskarth, who left the classroom, so it was just Pete and I.

I sang him the song I had sung a couple of times, that he seemed to like. 

“We should do that with our band,” he said when I finished. I continued talking to him, trying to keep his mind off of everything until the first aid arrived. 

Which it did very quickly. 

I stood next to Mr Gaskarth and we watched the nurse clean up all of Pete’s wounds, putting butterfly bandages and ice packs where he needed them. 

“I should have just kept the damn band together,” Mr Gaskarth muttered to himself, but I heard and let out the tiniest dark laugh. An ambulance arrived soon after, and Mr Gaskarth told me I could go to class if I wanted, but I refused. 

“Are you a relative?”

“His - his boyfriend. He has no other relatives.”

The paramedic looked to Mr Gaskarth, who nodded. I climbed into the back of the ambulance and grabbed Pete’s hand. I could feel his heartbeat in his wrist - really fast. So he wasn’t dying, which was good. He was just stressed. 

“Promise me one thing.”

He nodded. 

“Don’t get hurt again.”

He laughed slightly, but nodded. 

“I’ll try, Patrick.”

I smiled at him. I still couldn’t believe Gerard had done this to him - well, partially Gerard. 

Before I could say something else, my phone buzzed. My mom was calling. 

“Hi, Mom?”

“Hello? Are you safe?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I just got a call from the principal that Pete got hurt. Are you together? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, we’re together. We’re in the ambulance. This kid at school, uh, beat him up where he already had injuries from... yeah. He’s okay.”

“Oh, Patrick. We’ll meet you at the hospital later.”

“Okay. Bye Mom, love you.”

“Goodbye.”

Pete looked at me quizzically. 

“My mom,” I explained, “she wanted to know if you were okay.”

Pete smiled at this, and put his hand on his stomach, then wincing slightly and taking it off. 

“Oh Patrick no, don’t cry,” Pete lifted his hand up to wipe my tears but couldn’t even make it all the way. Gerard was added to the list of the two people I hated. Everyone has good in their hearts, some just don’t show it - like Pete. But some people, like Gerard and Pete’s stepdad, have buried that good so much that they are just... bad people. I thought about how Pete had nobody in his family to even visit him, just his friends and me. His mother didn’t even care about her son, leaving him for so long and only coming home to expect normality. 

We arrived at the hospital, and I sat in the waiting room for a good hour before I was allowed to see him. 

“Pete... oh god. Oh god.”

He smiled at me, pulling up the blanket over his bandaged chest. 

“Are you feeling good?”

He shrugged, reaching out a hand to hold mine. 

“Talk to me, Trick. Take my mind off it, please.”

And so I did. We talked about anything and everything until he was served lunch, and then we laughed about how bad the hospital food was. 

At around 4pm, we heard loud voices and footsteps outside the ward. 

“Pete!” Brendon exclaimed, walking into the room with the other behind him. 

“We heard Gerard beat you up?” Ryan asked. Pete nodded. 

“He did all that? Jesus.”

“Well...” 

I looked to Pete, and he nodded a little. 

“His stepdad did most of it. Gerard just reopened the wounds.”

Ryan gasped, looking at me and then back at Pete. 

“Your what? Why didn’t you tell any of us? What? How long?”

“Since freshman year,” Pete mumbled.

Brendon looked horrified. 

“Where is he? I’m going to-“

“He’s in custody,” I said. 

“Oh my god. I don’t care, I’m going to kill him for doing that to Pete. What-“

“Babe, stop,” Ryan grabbed his hand as a warning, and Brendon softened, hugging Ryan from behind and still looking at Pete with sympathetic eyes. 

“Wow - is that why you were upset when we met you?” Joe asked. Pete nodded. 

As the others continued to ask him questions, I excused myself for fresh air. I was unaware that I had a follower. 

“Patrick.”

“Oh- Hayley. Hi,” she smiled at me, and I stopped in the hallway. 

“Listen, I know this isn’t the best time, your best friend is in hospital, I know it sucks. But I was planning to do this today, so I might as well anyway. Queen of bad timing, I guess,” she said, and I wondered what she was doing. Asking a favour? 

“I - I really, really like you, Patrick,” she said, looking at me with her hazel eyes, lined with bold winged eyeliner. 

“I think you’re a great friend too,” I told her. 

“No - as in, more than a friend. Will you, uh, go out with me?”

Oh. Ohhhh. 

Pete was right. Damn it. 

“I - Hayley, you’re great but I’m - I, uh... I’m gay,” I struggled that part out with a lump in my throat, “I’m dating Pete. I’m so sorry, you’re really sweet, but I just... yeah. Sorry.”

She seemed taken aback slightly and I braced for impact. 

“Oh- oh, okay. Thank you for being nice about it. That’s not your fault. I’m really sorry, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend already. I wouldn’t have said that if I knew. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I reassured her, “I just didn’t want to tell anyone that, you know, yeah. It’s okay.”

She nodded and smiled, though I could tell she was quite disappointed. 

We went back into the room together, and I resumed my spot at Pete’s side.


	17. I’m On Deck, I’m Up Next

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

The hospital was okay, but I only had to stay there for a day. Our friends had come in both days after school, which was nice, and Patrick’s parents as well. Patrick had ended up staying at the hospital overnight with me, as he refused to leave. 

“C’mon Patrick,” I said, walking out the door with a few official papers that who knows would sign. 

“Oh yeah... by the way, Hayley asked me out yesterday,” he looked at the ground. 

“When?”

“When everyone came in, I went to go get some air. And she followed me, and yeah... I told her I was dating you. I - do you mind?”

I shook my head, grabbing his hand to reassure him. Even though the Gerard thing was a slight problem, Hayley seemed really nice, just a bit clueless. I trusted she wouldn’t tell anyone. 

Patrick nodded back and smiled, tracing his fingers up and down my hand. 

“You were right. I’m sorry,” I smirked and cocked my head at this, and he just looked away. 

By the time we went to school on Friday, everyone had heard about the Gerard incident. 

“Oh no,” I whispered to Patrick as Frank approached us. 

“Wentz,” he said, but it was in a softer tone, “are you... good?”

I blinked slowly. Frank Iero being nice? No freaking way. 

“I... yeah.”

“Sorry about Gerard,” This wasn’t Frank. He was probably just pretending to be nice, and he would get back at me later for getting Gerard expelled. Yeah. That was it. 

“Hope you feel better soon, bro,” Frank called me bro. Bro. Not loser, or shithead, or virgin. Bro. He definitely wasn’t feeling okay. 

He left, leaving me staring at his back in shock. I slowly turned to Patrick, who looked just as confused as I did. He shrugged at me, and I just blinked. 

I said nothing, and just kept walking. Without thinking, I took Patrick’s hand in mine as we walked through the crowd. I didn’t even realise until a small gasp came from Awsten Knight. 

“You guys are so cute together!” He exclaimed, running over to us. I could feel the eyes turn to us as everyone went silent.

“Awsten. Uh, we-“

“Are...” I muttered to Patrick, and he looked at me, eyes widened and asking. 

“Thanks,” Patrick just said. 

“You guys are dating?” Ray asked. 

Looking at Patrick again for confirmation, I nodded. My breath was caught in my throat, but I could barely imagine how Patrick felt. He looked like he was about to faint. Nobody at this school really cared about anyone being gay - Brendon and Ryan has been cutest couple three years in a row in the yearbook. But of course, Patrick didn’t know that. 

Awsten just smiled at us, and Ray turned back to Mikey. 

“Hey, guys,” Brendon said, emerging from the crowd and seeing our discomfort, “Ryan and I want to show you something, come on.”

Patrick and I followed the taller boy out, like we were little kids. Ryan was waiting around the back of the school, leaning against the wall in black flared jeans and a pastel green polo.

“You good?”

Patrick shook his head, “I don’t want a repeat.”

Ryan looked at him quizzically.

“At his old school,” I explained for him, “he was outed by someone and got bullied.”

Ryan nodded understandingly and hugged the shorter boy. 

“That’s not going to happen here, don’t worry,” Brendon reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder as Ryan stepped back, “Ryan and I have been the cutest couple for three solid years. And if anyone does, you’ve got all of us.”

Patrick smiled at him, then turned back to me. 

“Are you good, though?”

“Everyone guessed I was bi, anyway. It doesn’t really matter,” I said, even though it kind of did because now Mikey knew I wasn’t straight. I still didn’t know where Mikey stood on the whole situation - he didn’t want Gerard to hurt me, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like me - just that he would use less extreme ways.

Patrick nodded, and turned back to Brendon and Ryan. 

I slowly made my way away from them, not really sure where I was going. 

“Hey, Pete Wentz! Pete!”

“Hi,” I turned to the bouncy, green haired boy. I still had no idea how he was so smiley and energetic all the time. I couldn’t be like that for even five minutes. 

“What’s up? Sorry, I didn’t know you weren’t out. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry, I totally understand. I really-“

“Awsten, it’s fine. We had to come out somehow.”

“Okay. Cool. If you’re sure. Where are you going? Are you good?”

I shrugged, and just continued walking, but he walked with me. 

“Why are you following me?” I asked, and he seemed surprised. 

“I thought you would need someone to talk to about it, if you want, I can go.”

I didn’t mind his energy. Like Hayley and Brendon, it was actually a nice contrast. I shook my head. 

“Okay. Sure. I made this thing the other day, look-“

He pulled something out of his bag and I made a face. 

“Is that... are those teeth?”

“It’s a toothbat!” He said proudly, “A bat covered in teeth. Scarier than a regular bat.”

I nodded. It definitely was.

“Where did you get the teeth-“

“My friend Travis.”

“That - okay.”

He continued talking to me, showing me a bunch of random stuff he had. Most of it was insane and weird, but it was cool. I guess it was nice of him to distract me. 

The bell rang suddenly, but I had music first so I walked there with Awsten. 

“Nice talking to you dude!” he said, as we split into our separate groups.


	18. Tonight I’m High As A Private Jet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

“Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, man,” Awsten told me as he sat down with Otto, Hayley, Kellin and I. 

“Oh yeah,” Kellin said, “you and the Pete guy are dating right?”

I nodded slowly, but to my relief nobody said anything more on the subject. 

“So, the song. There’s mainly strings, obviously,” I said, “but we can do more of a faster, kind of punk version if that’s what we’re working with, yeah?”

“Sounds good, man. So... we quickly learn the basics and then do a run through?” Kellin asked, and I looked around at the other three who nodded. 

Hayley started warming up her voice, and Kellin and I tuned our guitars. Awsten has been tuning his bass while we made the plan, so he was just practising. 

After about ten minutes, we had all got ourselves comfortable with the song. 

Hayley’s voice was really nice. Everyone was good at their instruments, and Kellin had a higher voice so his backing vocals worked well with Hayley’s - and of course Awsten and I harmonising. 

All in all, we had a pretty good band and it was going well so far. 

“Dude, we could hear you from the other room. You guys sound great,” Pete told me as we left to go to Physics with Hayley. 

“Thanks,” Hayley and I said in unison, laughing at each other when we realised. 

Pete took my hand, and I felt a surge of nervousness, until I remembered that, oh yeah, this morning. 

Hayley smiled at us when she saw. So, thankfully, she wasn’t too heartbroken. 

“How do you know Gerard?” Pete suddenly asked. Hayley knew Gerard?

“What? Oh. Our families have been friends - were friends - since we were little. Until Gerard and I entered high school, and he started being... like he is now. He used to be really really sweet, I don’t know what happened,” she looked up at the sky, furrowing her eyebrows slightly and biting her lip. 

“How do you know she knows Gerard?”

Pete sighed, “when he... you know, he said he was going to hurt you for messing with Hayley or something.”

Hayley snapped her head back to Pete. 

“He what? Oh my god. I’m so sorry, you guys,” Hayley’s eyes looked like a sad puppy’s. 

“No, it’s fine. He didn’t end up hurting Patrick, thank god.”

“He hurt you, though?”

Pete shook his head, “Not a lot, really. Honestly, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt that much anymore.”

Hayley hugged Pete, and he flinched slightly, but leaned into it. 

“Also - sorry about the Patrick and I thing - I assume he’s told you.”

Pete nodded, but laughed a little to make her feel comfortable. 

“It’s fine. You didn’t know. I was just-“

“Jealous,” I said. 

“No!” 

Hayley and I laughed as the black haired boy sulked. He was still incredibly cute. 

Hayley turned off into her street a few moments later and Pete and I went home. 

“Hey, guys,” Molly said, “how are you, Pete?”

“You’re not going to ask about your own brother?” I asked her. 

“No.”

I laughed, and sat down at the table next to her. 

“I... I’m okay. Patrick and I... told everyone.”

She looked up at him, surprised, then to me. 

“And you were fine with it?”

I nodded, reaching over the table for Pete’s hand yet again. He just had really, really holdable hands - not too sweaty or cold. Soft, though. 

Molly shrugged and turned back to Pete. How was he the favourite sibling without even being a sibling?

“How’s the bruises?”

“Okay,” he told her. 

“Good. You guys can go now.”

I stuck my tongue out at her, and she did the same back. Pete and I continued up the stairs. 

“I hate to bring it up again, but,” I took a deep breath, “what are you going to about your mother?”

Pete’s head jerked up from the Green Day lyric booklet he was reading. 

“I don’t want to hear about her again,” he turned back to being immersed in Dookie. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just don’t - I’m still mad that she left me with him. If she had left and it was just my dad, I wouldn’t have cared. But she knew he hurt me.”

“She knew?”

“Yeah. She knew exactly what he was doing, and what he would do,” he said bitterly. I could feel the heat coming from him from the other side of the room. 

“I’m sorry for bringing-“

“Stop saying sorry, please. I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at them. She - my mom did this as much as my stepdad did.”

I heard the choke in his voice and moved to the floor where he was lying, running my hand up and down his back, but he flinched. 

“Ouch,” he mumbled. 

I started to apologise, but stopped myself. I didn’t want a repeat of the second night he was here. 

“Did I touch a bruise?”

“Patrick. Just don’t touch my back, please. I’m sorry, just, I - I don’t know.”

“I know,” I softened my voice, trying to calm him down, “I didn’t realise. I don’t-“

“No, you don’t - just. Look. Okay,” he said, and he sat up, tugging his shirt off. 

His back was littered with scars, some still healing. Some were old, but still so deep they almost looked fresh. The flesh was so badly bruised that his ribs looked like some messed up halloween costume - Pete was fairly fit, but the bones poked out from his back and chest. There was one deep, jagged scar going from his left shoulder to almost his hips. Some bits of flesh were broken off and not fully repaired, like little craters in his skin. 

“What the-“

“Don’t. Just now you know, okay?” As he was putting his shirt back on, the door opened. Molly came in, looked at us sitting on the floor, and gave us a questioning look. 

“Now isn’t the best time-“

“I got that. Mom just-“

“Sorry, Mol, but tell her we’re busy.”

She nodded, taking that as her cue to leave. 

“Can we do another song?”

I nodded. Anything Pete needed to take his mind off things. 

“Okay. This one, it’s a different one - I’ve got a name for it; Homesick at Space Camp,” he said excitedly, handing me paper. 

“Weird, but okay. I can’t read this, Pete.”

“Oh - I’ll rewrite it for you later, but it’s… like this, yeah. Landing on a runway in Chicago...”


	19. I Don't Know Where I’m Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Pete

After taking off my shirt in front of Patrick - and not in the situation I was expecting - I was ready to never mention anything about that again. 

But of course, I had my trial date. 

Again, Patrick held my hand the entire time. He helped me pick out a suit in the morning, waited with me and told me stories about when he was a kid to distract me. He couldn’t go up and speak with me, so I was left trembling up there alone, but the second I sat down he hugged me and didn’t let go of my hand. The whole time, it felt like a hydraulic press was going down on my chest, putting so much pressure I almost burst. 

The worst part, though; I had to face both my mom and my stepdad. No matter what Patrick did, he couldn’t get rid of them. He could only distract me for so long. 

I cried like a baby the second we got home. Patrick tried to comfort me, but I just went to his bed and stayed under the covers until he came to sleep hours later. 

“Pete, can you talk to me?”

“Please? Petey?”

He sighed, and I moved over to the wall to let him get in the bed. 

“Thanks. You did so well today, Pete. I know it was scary. But you’ll - they’ll get what they deserve? Okay? And so will you - you deserve everything. The world. Okay? They can’t hurt you any more, Gerard can’t hurt you either. Everything’s good. You know? I know you’re listening. You don’t have to say anything. Just keep listening, if you want. If you don’t, you can tell me, or not tell me, but...”

I smiled the tiniest of smiles. Of course, he couldn’t see it. But I appreciated him so much. He didn’t even know what he meant to me. 

“Keep talking,” I muttered. 

“Oh! Okay. Yeah. Uh - yesterday, Hayley was telling me about her band, Paramore. She showed me a song. It’s good. We need to make a band - if you want, you know. Um. And - and Mikey Way talked to me, when you were in the bathroom - he just said he was really really sorry about everything and he didn’t know Gerard was going to do that. So he’s on your side. Everyone’s on your side, yeah?”

I rolled over as he was talking, his eyes misted over. 

“Thank you,” I said quietly, and he turned his head to see me right next to him. 

“It’s no problem.”

I smiled, gazing into his eyes. It was dark, but I could still see the way they shone. His pale face - so perfect. 

“What are you looking at?”

“You, of course.”

He giggled nervously. I never understood how he couldn’t see how perfect he was.

“Wendy, run away with me,” I told him. 

“What’s that?”

“One of Mr Gaskarth’s songs.”

“Who’s the stalker now?” He laughed, turning to lie on his back and looking at the ceiling. I did the same, but under the covers reached for his hand and held it. 

“It’s a good song.”

“Stalker.”

“You did it first.”

“And you’re the one who-“

“Goodnight, Trick.”

He huffed, but laughed and squeezed my hand, turning over to sleep. 

I slowly drifted off too, pushing the day's events out of my mind. 

“Hey guys,” Ryan said as we went into Math, “How was... the thing, Pete?”

I shrugged, saying nothing. Awsten bounced in, right on time. 

“Hey. You’re almost late,” Ryan told him. 

“I’m a punctual Houston boy. I would never be late.”

Patrick laughed, and I gave him a small smile. 

Since Patrick, I was smiling a lot more. 

“Nice shirt, bro!” Awsten pointed around my shirt, which was coincidentally the same Green Day shirt I had been wearing when Patrick came. 

“Thanks. It’s kind of my lucky shirt now.”

Patrick made an ‘aww’ sound, and I turned and smiled at him, getting lost in his ocean eyes for the millionth time. 

“You guys don’t have to be cute all the time, you know,” Ryan interrupted. 

“Big words coming from the king of PDA,” I shot back at him. He laughed. 

“All Bren.”

I shook my head. 

“Impossible.”

He just laughed, and we continued on with the work the teacher had given us in the last class. 

Frank said nothing as we entered the English classroom - mainly because he wasn’t there. He arrived fifteen minutes late, eyes downcast. The teacher told him off, but there was no talking back, no witty remarks, no side eyes to our table. 

“What happened to him?” 

“I don’t know,” Hayley replied, “but probably something related to Gerard.”

I nodded. I had temporarily forgotten about him. 

The class was working silently for once - even Frank - until there was an interruption from the loud speaker. 

“Peter Wentz and Patrick Stump to the office, please. Peter Wentz and Patrick Stump to the office.”

Patrick and I looked at each other, confused, but left the classroom to the office. 

“What do you want?” The office lady clicked slowly on her computer. 

“Uh - we’re Pete Wentz and Patrick-“

“The principal wants to see you. Through that door and to the left,” she said, not even so much as glancing up at us. 

We didn’t need the instructions of course - I had been to Mr Gaskarth’s office so many times, I could do it in my sleep. Never because I was in trouble - well, maybe one time. 

“Boys, sit down,” he said as we entered the room. I sat down next to Patrick in the leather chairs. 

“You know Gerard has been expelled, right? Yeah. And I’ve alerted the police of his behaviour, so he’s on watch now. I heard that your court date was Saturday, correct?”

I nodded. 

“Good. That’s - that’s great to hear. You’re going to be okay.”

“I know, sir. I have Patrick,” I looked to the boy next to me, who blushed. Mr Gaskarth smiled. 

“I’m so proud of you - both of you. Look how far you’ve come, Pete. Every time I see you two together, you’re smiling. That’s what I want to see, yeah?”

I felt the corners of my mouth tugging upwards. It was true, Patrick had changed my life for the better. He was magical.


	20. We’ll Stay Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

Pete really had changed a lot. From the sulky, silent boy on the first day to the smiling, loving one he was sitting next to me. It had only been about a month since I came, but it had been a crazy month. 

“Thank you so much for making me show him around,” Pete told Mr Gaskarth, “in fact, thank you for everything.”

The principal just smiled, giving Pete a reassuring look. 

“That’s all I wanted to say to you, really. You can go back to class, if you want - to be honest, I don’t mind if you stay. I have a lot of paperwork I’m trying to procrastinate.” 

I laughed, and then I remembered something I’d seen from my (yes, admittedly it was stalking) internet exploration. 

“Sir - not to be rude, but you’ve met Green Day, right?”

He seemed slightly surprised, but laughed.

“Yeah - a couple of times, actually. I’m guessing you found all the stuff about me?”

I nodded. 

“Patrick’s been stalking you, sir.”

I glared at him, and he just laughed, “No I haven’t. I was just curious because... Shut up Pete! It’s not every day your principal is famous.”

Mr Gaskarth shook his head, but there was a faint smile. 

“How much have you seen, exactly?” He asked, looking back up at me. 

“Well, on tumblr, I found-“ 

“I already know. I’m not going to discuss this with my eleventh graders. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

I laughed. The fan fiction wasn’t really that bad - no. It really was. Any story about your principal banging someone is inherently bad. 

“You can go back to class now,” he said. I looked at Pete, who shrugged. 

“Thank you again, sir. Really - I would be dead by now if-“

“It’s my job, Pete. It’s no problem.”

With that, we left.


	21. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P.O.V: Patrick

Four months later, and summer was rolling around. It was the last day of school before summer break, and Ryan, Brendon, Jon and Spencer were off practising as their band. Hayley was in another state with Paramore. Joe, Andy, Pete and I were laying on the grass, basking in the sun. 

“Yo,” Joe said suddenly, “I know about music.”

I laughed. 

“Yo,” I imitated, “I know more about music.”

“Impossible. Wanna start a band?” he turned over, and so did I, so we were looking at each other. Pete and Andy did the same thing. 

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading!! although its kinda shitty, i hope you enjoyed this. as i said, more fics coming in future. leave a comment n tell me what u think!! 
> 
> have a good day/night/whatever it is where u are. remember u are loved and important.
> 
> and follow me on twitter: https://twitter.com/m1ssmissingyou
> 
> xo trick


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